A Cullenite's Guide: How to be Inquisitor
by Lourdes23
Summary: Cora is a die-hard fan of DA:I and its Commander-in-Shining-Armor. But her need to immerse herself in the game as much as possible finally hits a little too close to home. Face-to-face with the object of her obsession, what is a 'Cullenite' to do when faced with having exactly what she thought she always wanted right in front of her? Can she be as responsible as her Inquisitor?
1. Lose Your Goddamned Mind

**A CULLENITE'S GUIDE: HOW TO BE INQUISITOR**

 **STEP ONE: LOSE YOUR GODDAMNED MIND**

The room flickered weakly in the darkness; the light of the flat screen television was the only illumination in the room. Cora blinked down at her coffee cup, the dregs at the bottom were ice cold. God, how long had she been playing? She debated on a shower and food - the third time she'd had this argument with herself since last night - but that bastard Samson was still roaming Thedas like he was top shit, and she had promised Cullen -

Cora sighed. Christ - she was taking her relationship with a video game character more seriously than she did seventy-five percent of her real life relationships. Still, if any one of those 'real' people smirked at her like the dear Commander did...

She chucked and tapped the hotkey to pull up the tactical screen and freeze the game as she stood from her couch, spine popping and cup in hand, to get her fourth - or fifth - cup of coffee since she had started her marathon play-through. The bright green haze of a fade rift halted in mid-flare consumed the screen as she plodded off to the kitchen, thinking about the left-over tai in the fridge. She could eat that cold as a quick snack before heading back to duty.

But before she could pull at the fridge door what sounded to be an explosion of shredding fabric and vocal cords, accompanied by clattering pots and pans exploded in her living room, followed by a shallow grunt, and Cora froze, panic immediately kicking her nerves into overdrive.

Someone was in her apartment.

 _Someone was in her apartment!_

She thought of her cellphone, which was sitting on the coffee table, and bemoaned not having a landline for the first time; the wall outlet for the phone jack mockingly empty above the counter.

Thinking quickly Cora ripped a steak knife from her countertop block and, her hand pressed over her heart, slowly rounded her way back towards the entry into the living room. If she could just get to the front door; get out and get next door to Mr. Isaacs' apartment... or downstairs to the apartment building's doorman...

With her heart fluttering madly in her throat, Cora crept around the corner to peer into the oddly lit living room.

Thankfully the knife slipped from her fingers before her hands clapped over her mouth.

Sprawled on hands and knees before her television, her intruder lifted a head of mussed curls and peered about himself with wide amber eyes, his face partially obscured by the animal pelt draping his shoulders; sharper here - the pixelated edges smoothed and softened by reality.

And when those eyes trained on her, and that familiar yet impossible face stared at her incredulously _from her living room floor,_ Cora let fly from behind her fingers the only words that her mind could wrap around - lost to how absurdly appropriate they were:

"Maker's breath!"

XXXX

She considered herself a fairly rational person. Okay, maybe rational wasn't the right word. But she pulled some pretty impressive grades in college, had made some - not a lot, but a few - good friends, and lived in a nice apartment that her dad helped pay for; a gift to get her away from wife number three, who was about as charming as a fucking ally cat, though probably not as disease free. The woman was a troll, and Cora wasn't beyond pointing it out. Loudly. In public. It made holidays more entertaining, that was for sure.

All right, so these were not exactly the actions of someone with a lot of rational. But still, she liked to think of herself as as someone who wasn't prone to flipping out at the drop of a hat.

So when she watched through a stupor as _he_ pulled himself from the carpet, gazing around the room before finally locking eyes on her again, a singular thought bounced around her head, while she stood by like a mannequin:

 _This can't be real-this can't be real-this can't-_

"Where are we?" His voice was uncertain, slightly quavering though not fearful. Wary. She knew that tone. She'd played through enough times to know his every innuendo. And _fuck!_ That voice! She opened her fingers to release her mouth and together their eyes roved back to her television, still displaying the odd green glare. "Did we fall through the rift?"

"We?" She asked dumbly. She was dreaming. She bit the inside of her cheek and felt the sharp sting of her teeth. No, not a dream.

She was dead. Unlikely. Nothing had happened that could kill her.

She had lost her goddamned mind.

Plausible.

Because Cullen I-Will-Sex-You-With-My-Voice-and-Smirk Rutherford looked at her as though seeing her there with him was an every day thing. Slowly he took the two steps needed to stand before her and reflexively she drew back; a puzzled frown instantly twisted his features.

"Inquisitor, are you alright? You sound different..."

Cora peered around her apartment, noticing that everything was just as it should be, except for the armored fictional character currently tuned in on her.

"What did you just call me?" She asked, trying so hard to figure out just what in the hell was going on. Cullen's scowl deepened.

"Inquisitor," he repeated slowly, though not condescendingly. He seemed worried for her. "Why are you speaking so strangely?"

And somewhere in the back of her mind, that little piece of rationality clicked in.

Of course! She had made her latest Quizzy into herself. It had taken her an entire afternoon to do it, and a couple of mods - okay, more than a couple - to get it pretty close to spot on except for a few freckles, a little extra blue in her eyes like she wanted in real life, and some other very minor details and facial definitions that couldn't be helped. And of course her voice. She'd used the Western accent in the game instead of the European, but her voice was higher-pitched in reality.

Still it was pretty damned close. Same blonde colored hair; same messy bun at the base of her skull that she loved to wear. Same face and body build. _Really_ close. Close enough for Cullen to think she was the real deal.

No. Wait. She _was_ the real deal. It was her character that was copy!

"I'm not the Inquisitor," she said slowly, "my name is Cora."

Cullen's frowned deepened. "Cora." His voice was deadpanned.

"Yes. Cora."

"Yes, I know." Said fictional character was now looking at her like he was concerned for her sanity. A fucking video game was worried for her sanity. "Cora Trevaylen."

"No." She replied, shaking her head. "Cora Dempkowski. Of Chicago. Illinois." Each fact was met with an unwavering look of uncertainty, yet like an idiot she kept pressing the issue. "America? Planet Earth? Any of this making sense?"

"Love, are you-" Those gloved fingers lifted to comb through her hair and Cora nearly flipped her shit as his fingers pressed tenderly to her temple; the leather warm and soft and very solid considering just minutes ago he had been nothing more than digital coding in a machine, translated into colored light on a screen.

"Whoa!" She crowed, leaning away for who-the-hell knew why. "Whoa. Wait. So you're real? Like, here, real?" Her hands flew back to her mouth, as her brain tried and failed repeatedly to wrap around what was happening. "Ohhhh... oh shit. I mean - _shit!_ What is going on here?"

"That's precisely what I would like to know." Cullen announced petulantly. "Did you or did you not take us through a rift? Or... are we in the Fade?" His eyes widened fearfully. "Maker, no. No, not again..."

And it hit her like an ice bucket of water to the face as she watched him almost physically curl in on himself. He was terrified. Like before, in Origins... like when-

"No!" She blurted, a bit too loudly judging by the way he startled. "No, it's not like the tower. You're not about to be tortured or anything."

Cullen's eyes only widened. "I never told you that part," he whispered and her heart twisted at the fear there; at what _she_ had just done to _him_. She forgot to be afraid of what was happening here; forgot to wonder if she was losing her mind. She'd played the games. She knew that if anyone was a candidate for PTSD it was Cullen; and right now she did not want to be the cause for that breakdown.

"No, listen," she sighed, her hands waiving gently, "just... okay. Okay." She had to slow down, to speak carefully so he would understand. It would be easy enough because-

 _-because she was the Inquisitor._ Maybe not physically, but everything the Inquisitor did in the game was a direct reflection of her personality; all of the actions committed had been by her choice.

Cora moved over to sit at her couch, and waving a hand at the armchair for Cullen; knowing before he even shook his head that he would rather stand. She took a little comfort at that. She knew this man.

"So let me start with some facts." She said, sitting forward so she could run her fingers over her lips thoughtfully. "Yes, I am Cora. You know me as the Inquisitor, that's true. But I'm a little different in this place from what I am in Thedas. You see, I've never been to Thedas physically, though I know a lot about it. That's how I know about your past - or some of it. I travel there through that," she said, pointing to the television. "It lets me interact with the world of Thedas and see everything that is going on without physically being there."

"That's impossible," Cullen scowled, "you _are_ there. Or you were."

"That was a..." she searched for the right word, "a projection of me. A copy that could be there physically when I couldn't. I controlled that copy. Here, watch." Cora leaned forward and retrieved her keyboard, resting it on her lap with her legs crossed before her in her typical gaming posture as she pressed pause again. The screen came to life and Cullen startled at the sudden flickering lights and noise. On the screen the fade rift roared as she moved her Inquisitor into place and held the button to close the rift. The whining increased in pitch and ended with a loud concussion of sound; leaving nothing but a small green pile of debris in its wake. Slowly Cora rotated the camera view until the face of her Inquisitor was visible.

"See?" She said. "Watch. I'm going to draw my weapon." She pressed the appropriate button and the woman on the screen pulled her staff from her back. "Now I'm going to return it." Again she followed through. "See?"

Cullen moved slowly to the television, his hand lifted to rest against the thin screen. His eyes turned back to the Cora on the couch.

"If you know so much about me, you know that I am not going to just accept that."

"I know," she said, "but I don't know how else to prove it to you."

Cullen stared at her thoughtfully for a moment before stepping towards her, his hand extended down to help her from her chair; his expression determined, but not threatening.

"I do."

XXXX


	2. Call For Back-Up

**A CULLENITE'S GUIDE: HOW TO BE INQUISITOR**

 **STEP TWO: CALL FOR BACK-UP**

She dragged at his hand, her sock-covered heals trying to dig at the polished floors of the stairwell's landing, and yet he pulled her along as easily as though she was simply walking at his side. His grip on her arm wasn't painful - actually it was very gentle, but perfectly maintained so that she couldn't pull her had free no matter how hard she tried. And was she ever trying!

"Cullen, no," she panted, trying to tug her hand free when he paused again to peer about at their surroundings before turning a determined glare on her, "this isn't a good idea!" He was from a fantasy era. The modern world was no place for him. If she knew anything it was _that._

Unfortunately for Cora, he didn't share her opinion. "Which way?" He demanded and she gave her arm another hard yank. Her shoulder popped loudly at the motion and it was only then that he released his iron grip on her, his face a little startled - maybe even hurt, she realized - before it smoothed over into that confident control of his. It served him right, she thought, and gingerly rotated her shoulder.

"You don't know what you're doing," she warned, "this isn't Thedas."

"So you keep telling me," he muttered, "and yet I still need to see for myself where I've landed. Now, are you going to help me, or am I going to find this... Chicago... myself?"

"But I'm not wearing any shoes!" She protested.

"I'll carry you." He practically growled. "Which. Way."

And he gave her "the" look - the one he had dropped on Jim the first time the poor bastard had interrupted them - Cullen and the Inquisitor - kissing. She wasn't intimidated. She knew better. But it was still a little nerve-wracking to have that kind of power and irritation turned on you. Nerve-wracking, but Christ, he was sexy!

 _Stop that. Just. Stop._

Unconsciously she gave a low grunt of disgust and took his leather-clad hand back in hers. "Fine," she grumbled, "but on one condition. You don't leave my side."

"You have my word." He vowed and yet she leveled a steely look on him that she hoped told him that she was in no way screwing around here.

"I'm serious, Cullen," she said quietly, "the world out there is not like anything you've ever seen. The only monsters out there look like everyone else, but they can come up with ways to hurt you that would rival the worst demon. You don't know this place. I do. Don't wander off. Are we clear?"

And there it was; that look. The one that everyone in the game gave her character once she became Inquisitor. He was going to obey her - like he still answered to her!

"Perfectly." His tone was softer now; his expression losing the obstinate edge it had just adapted, though his free hand trailed down to wrap loosely around the grip of his sword. Shit. She should have made him leave that behind, she realized. But he was nodding with that polite gallantry that made her insides go all jelly and gesturing ahead with his free hand. "If you would, Inquisitor?"

Cora sighed. What was she doing? He wasn't prepared for this place. She should prep him more, at least. Then again he wasn't giving her much of a choice. It was that damned voice and chivalry of his. She couldn't say no when he purred out his perfect manners for her, calling her Inquisitor, like she was…

"Just remember," she breathed, "you asked for this." And she tugged at his hand, leading him into the brightly lit vestibule. Daylight shone through the revolving door and when he hesitated she shoved him into the wedge-shaped opening, squeezing herself into what little space remained and pushing at the glass with small shuffling steps until the cool air and noise of the city streets assaulted their senses. Immediately she reached down and gripped his hand again, feeling it tighten convulsively around her thinner fingers. _Now_ it hurt!

Lifting her eyes to the tall man at her side, Cora watched as his eyes widened impossibly while he tried to take in their surroundings. Around them cars and trucks clogged roads that wove in between buildings stretching hundreds - _thousands_ \- of feet into the air. Towering monoliths of glass and steel, built by men to house men. The air was a buzz of noise; the steady beeping of the crosswalk, the blaring of angry car horns in the distance, and the muffled beats of music pouring out of open car windows. People walking past either stared at Cullen like he was a freak, or purposefully went out of their way to pretend the pair standing there gawking at their surroundings didn't exist. One group of teenagers further up the street was already pointing excitedly, seemingly debating on coming over. Shit, they probably thought Cullen was in cosplay or something.

It was enough to bring her to sensory overload if she tried to take it all in - and she lived here! She couldn't imagine what was going through Cullen's head right now.

Barely audible above the noise of traffic, a commercial jet flew over their heads and Cora's arm was jerked violently as Cullen reflexively drew back towards the door; his arm flexing as his grip on his sword shifted, and she knew what he was doing. Her fingers were over his in a heartbeat; praying to God that he wouldn't draw the weapon and get them arrested, or worse. Whatever restraint he had used inside when tugging her along was gone, and now his grip on her fingers had them throbbing and getting cold from a lack of circulation.

"Maker!" He swore softly, watching the plane glide by overhead while pulling her towards him, like he was going to have to protect her from an attack or something, and around her his arm was as rigid and taught as wood. He was wound tight, that was for sure, and she had about two seconds to bring him back down.

"Cullen," she kept her voice calm even thought she wanted to yelp at the fact that her fingers were about one more squeeze away from shattering, "it's alright. It's just an airplane; a... really large passenger transport... that flies." Yet the leather-covered grip on her fingers didn't loosen, and the ache in her hand was growing worse with every second. "Cullen?"

Caramel eyes as wide as quarters turned down towards her, and she could hear that voice warble up from beneath the sounds of passing trucks and pedestrians.

"Maker, where have you taken me?"

XXXX

She sat in her armchair, staring at the still form stretched out on her couch. She had turned off the television hours ago and was now sitting in silence and darkness, not willing to flip on her lamp or open the curtains to let in the nighttime ambient light of the city, despite her desire to see his face. She'd brought him immediately back up to her apartment without even bothering to try to get him to move beyond the entrance to her building. She had figured it was going to be a lot for him to take in, but he had basically locked up down there. Shut down, like he had in DA:O - only without the steady stream of prayers pouring from his lips.

And it had taken hours to calm him down. To get him back to a point of speaking calmly, and not staring at the closed drapes like the world outside was banging on the glass trying to get in. Despite having talked to him afterwards about the outside world she still felt like shit. She had known it was going to be hard on him, and she had tried to stop him, but maybe she could have prepared him better. Given him a little more warning, at least.

So she'd placed a delivery order from the diner down the street, fed him some fried chicken and veggies, which he'd eaten like a robot, and then put him to bed on her couch, scrolling through articles on PTSD on her phone until she dozed off, too. That must have been hours ago because when she woke up her neck hurt like hell from being bent over her shoulder for so long. And now here she was, staring at the bulky shadow on her couch wondering what the hell she should be doing.

Didn't the game make him out to be a guy that didn't really sleep? But it was into night from the way no light bled through her curtains, and he was still where he had been when she had finally dozed off herself; boots set up neatly on the floor by his feet and armor propped just as carefully beside his boots, while the man himself lay on his back with one arm draped over his chest, her throw blanket spread out over his long legs.

She debated again on waking him up and then sighed in frustration.

"Give him a break, Cora," she muttered softly to herself, "you'd be a wreck, too, if you woke up in a different world."

"I am not 'wreck'." His voice lifted quietly from the couch, though he didn't move so much as an inch. Cora blinked, and reached out to flick on the table lamp at her side at last.

"How long have you been awake?" She asked.

"Since before you," he admitted, dropping his arm from his chest and sitting up gingerly. "I wanted to put you to bed in your room properly, but I..." His eyes drifted down.

Cora sighed. "This is all to strange to you, I get it. _I'm_ even different."

"I-No, it's not that you're different." He shook his head. "In many ways you are exactly as I have always known you. But your voice and speech have changed, and then there is this place and-"

The cell phone at her side lit up brightly, and to her ever lasting embarrassment Cullen's own voice crooned loudly from the tiny speaker; "Marry me." She's programmed that as her text alert after Trespasser came out, and it still made her tingly every time she heard it.

Except now, of course.

Quickly she snatched up the traitorous gadget, staring at Cullen while relatively certain that she was about twelve different shades of red at that moment.

 _Shit. Well this is awkward!_

"Was that... me?" He asked, tilting his head to peer at the cell clutched in her fingers. "How did you do that?"

"It's just a recording," she explained quickly, "a... copy of your voice that I took from there." She pointed to the television, not wanting to call it a 'game'. Christ, she could see that going over well. And while she was at it, she could tell him that Corypheus was 'no big deal.'

 _Yeah, let's just piss off the fictional hottie sitting on your couch right now,_ she though, turning her attention back to her phone. The message on her screen informed her that she had just gotten a text from her friend Dee, and she tapped the screen to skim the contents briefly.

'What the hell? Did you get it?'

She scowled, and tapped a reply out quickly.

'Get what?'

"What is that in your hands?" Cullen asked, leaning forward, and Cora tilted the phone towards him slightly to give him a better view.

"It's a cell phone," she explained, "a tool we use here to communicate instantly with each other - even across huge distances."

"Is it magic?" He asked, scowling at it, and Cora shook her head.

"No. Magic doesn't exist here - at least not anything beyond slight of hand and tricks of perception. This is more like... dwarven technology. Only really, really far beyond where the dwarves are." The phone lit up again and his voice echoed his quote once more from the phone. Cullen arched a brow at her.

"Clearly," he murmured and she quickly fumbled through the settings of her phone, opening up the tones she used for her text messages and selecting the first basic chime she came across instead. "Sorry," she muttered, "that should fix it." She opened her messages again.

'The mod I sent you. Haha!'

Cora scowled again. What was she talking about?

"I've never said that to anyone, though," Cullen murmured quietly, his voice unusually soft, "not even... you. How did you get that?"

This was not a conversation that she wanted to have, Cora realized all of a sudden. No. Not at all. How could she explain to him that she's married him three times in the past year and a half? _No, that's not creepy at all._

"I'll answer you," okay, so that was a lie, "but first, I need to make a quick call, okay?"

"A call?" He frowned, and she wagged the cell in front of him.

"I need to speak with someone using this," she said. "It'll just be a second. Okay?"

"Alright..." His tone was skeptical, but at least Cullen was willing to give her room to think. No surprise there - he had never really pressed her for anything. God he was a gentleman. She briefly wondered if her dad would approve of him.

 _Stop. That._

Tapping Dee's name from her speed-dial directory, she pressed the glass pane to her ear and waited for her friend to pick up. As always there were no pleasant greetings or standard civility between she and her friend. They were beyond that anyway, and as though to prove it the throaty voice on the other end of the line immediately started in on her.

"Yeah, I see how it is. You beg me for days to give you the new mod, and when I load it into your computer you just-"

"Dee, wait, which mod?" There had been several Cora had been asking her friend to send over. Dee was an amazing mod creator, though she couldn't always come up with ideas of her own. That's where Cora came in. She could come up with great ideas and Dee could make masterpieces out of them. It was what made them such a killer duo in the modding community, and how they made most of their living now. God bless social media and sponsors eager to jump on the gravy train! Cora's tests of the mods on the hottest social video sites got Dee's mods huge recognition - and had even earned Dee a couple of job offers in the video game programing and design industry, which her friend was still mulling over. And Cora was a mini-internet sensation. Okay, maybe not on the same level as that guy who played through all of those horror games, but 1.4 million followers online was not a _fucking hobby,_ dammit! And someone really needed to tell her goddamned step-troll that!

The girls' combined success in the modding and internet communities was also why Dee could log into her computer remotely - they had a shared private network just for this reason. It saved them from having to move in together. Cora loved her friend, but if they ever had to live together she was pretty certain one of them would end up dead within a month. If they were merciful. Dee was a packrat and Cora was a clean freak. They would kill each other over all of Dee's crap.

From the other end of the line Dee laughed. "Hey, are you okay? You sound wired. You need to lay off of the coffee-"

"Which mod, Dee?" Cora demanded, and her friend's chuckling died off.

"Whoa, did something happen? Did it trash your game? Fuck! I tested it! I ran it through the battery! It should have been fine! Girl I am so-"

"Dee, was it the addition to the Cullen combat mod?" Across from her Cullen tipped his head, his expression wary. Cora gave him a wave that she hoped said 'don't worry, it's nothing.' She didn't have time to explain to him just now about how she'd wanted to be able to watch him fight any time and then, when Dee had made that little fantasy a reality, had wanted to be able to interact with him on the field, too. Enter, the 'new mod.'

"What is this about me and combat?" He asked quietly and Cora scowled and pressed a finger to her lips. It earned her one of his pissy glares, but it also got him to shut his mouth - even if his jaw was now clenched. She made an effort to soften her expression and held up a finger, letting him know it would be just another minute.

"Yeah," Dee went on obliviously, "the one that lets you make out or talk with him wherever, even when you take him out in the world. I know I took out the wall lean animation for your character b- wait. You mean you mean you didn't open it yet?"

"When did you send it?" Cora pressed, turning on her tv and muting it so she could boot up the game and check the time of her last save. The game had frozen shortly after Cullen had busted through her tv - not surprising, honestly - but her saves were still apparently in tact. And there had been an auto save that had been going on right before she had paused and Cullen came through.

"I don't know," Dee murmured, "nine-ish? Maybe ten? Why?"

Cora read through her saved games log, looking for the auto save and found it - time stamped 9:41am.

She quickly dropped the game to the background and looked at her folder where her mods were saved, finding one named "Girl_I_Get_What_I_Want" having been added at the exact same time - 9:41am.

9:41am. Wait that was…

She glanced at Cullen.

Was it a coincidence? No. No, it couldn't be, he was sitting here, after all, and when weird shit when down in the game it was never a coincidence. Yeah, this was planet Earth, but somehow the rules of this world were applying less and less the longer this went on. So no. She couldn't believe it was a coincidence.

9:41 Dragon. The year that Dragon Age Inquisition started in.

 _How is this even possible?_

"Oh shit, Dee." She muttered, her eyes sliding over to Cullen, her hand lifting to her mouth over the phone. "Oh shit, Dee! How in the fuck?"

"Whoa girl, whoa!" Dee's voice was rising also - she was obviously getting anxious too. Dee got nervous easily anyway, though. She was high-strung. It was what kept her working in electronics instead of with people. Except Cora, and even that was in doses. "What are you flipping out about?"

Cora pulled her had from her mouth slowly, her eyes on Cullen as she held a brief but very heated debate in her head about what she was about to say next. She had an overactive imagination. She could roll with these punches. But Dee?

 _Fuck it. There was no way around it._

"I need you to come over first thing in the morning," she said at last, slowly, "like, 6-ish. And bring your inhaler. Make sure it's full. You're going to need it."

She heard the familiar puff-hiss of the little medical necessity through her phone, "you mean more than I do now? Crap, girl, you've got me wound up and I don't even know what for? And why do I have to wait?"

"Because I need to puzzle this out a bit before we get started on fixing it." Cora said seriously, willing to drag Dee into their usual routine for troubleshooting a problematic mod. "It's important." That part was not part of the norm.

She heard her friend sigh into her own cell. "Alright. Be there in the morning. But I swear to God, Cora, if you do that jump-scare shit to me again, I will fucking pepper-spray you. I'm not even playing."

"I won't." Cora promised, not able to get upset over the threat. She knew it would be years before she'd live down the prank that had earned her Dee's wariness. In her defense, it had been an attempt - _okay a really bad attempt_ \- at loosening the little nerd-ling up. "See ya." She tapped the phone off and raised a nervous stare to the man before her.

"You're expecting guests?" He asked.

"Just one, in the morning. I think she can help."

"I see," the Commander said quietly, though by his scowl she was sure he had no damned clue what was going on. Neither did she, really, but she was hoping that together she and Dee could figure it out. They were good at this sort of thing - Cora was the imagination and Dee was the practical execution. They were a perfect team, after all.

"What would you have me do?" He asked, and Cora waived stood and gestured to her bedroom door.

"You should probably try to sleep some more." She said. "Tomorrow is going to be busy and you need to have your head on straight." Brushed blonde curls swayed before her and Cora felt her stomach warm at how much sexier the act was in real life, where each individual strand could dance and sparkle and-

 _God. Seriously, Cora?_

"I won't impose on you more than I have," he argued, not noticing her embarrassment. "I will sleep here. You should get a proper night's rest if you are to be at your best tomorrow."

"No," Cora pressed and folded her arms beneath her breasts. "I've got things to do out here tonight. At least for a few hours. I'll crash out on the couch when I'm done. You take the bed. I just washed the bedding, too. As your hostess, I insist."

She watched his face crinkle into a scowl that told her she'd cornered him - which she already knew. She'd hit the 'proper manners' button hard on that one, and smiled smugly when he nodded.

"Alright." He muttered, and stood, pausing to stare at her for a moment until she frowned.

"What?"

"Forgive me. I've just… grown accustomed to…" he shook his head again and smiled for her. "It's nothing. Forget that I said anything."

Cora smiled, not understanding why she felt a little sad at that. It felt like there was a wall between them; one she didn't think had been there before. But how could that be possible? Before today he had existed only in video games.

"Get some sleep." She ordered gently. "I'll be in there to wake you up early."

"Do you mean your definition of early, or mine?" He quipped, his tiny smirk and arched brow bringing an honest laugh out of Cora and breaking her little internal pout. She couldn't tell if it was a jab against her for waking from their nap first, or if it was because she'd played her inquisitor to be someone not overly fond of rising early.

Either way, it was good to see his smile, even if it was a small one. She'd have to work to give him more of those while he was here. It was the least she could do.

"Last one up loses the race." She countered and reached for her keyboard, closing out the game and pulling up her internet browser. She wondered if the smell of brewing coffee would keep him awake, and decided that she could go without for a few hours.

For now she had some research to do.

XXXX


	3. Get What You Want

**STEP THREE: GET WHAT YOU WANT**

Cora stood outside the bathroom, listening to the shower knobs squeak and the hiss of water die off. Minutes later the door opened and Cullen, clad only in his pants and white undershirt, emerged.

"Maker, that was amazing," he sighed, rotating his shoulders and bringing a small flutter to Cora's belly as she watched muscles ripple under the shirt which clung to his still-damp skin. "If you're trying to give me a reason to like this world, you just found one."

With a grin she pushed passed him into the bathroom to grab a comb and her pomade for his hair. While the unruly wet-curls look was _really_ sexy, she needed him looking war room ready for Dee.

"Get your hair dried," she said, "we've got to make you look like you."

Twenty five minutes later Cullen was polished, preened and looking amazing in his armor. She had to tease him about how long it took to style his hair - that had taken the majority of the prep time. She'd even given him one of her replacement toothbrushes to use, and had laughed outright when he had put the paste-covered tool into his mouth and grimaced at the flavor. He had smiled at her laugh, a small, nostalgic expression, and she stopped.

"I have always loved your laugh," he murmured, and Cora felt her face get hot.

"I have the same laugh there?" She asked and Cullen nodded, giving her a look that said _'why wouldn't you?'_

"I always thought it was a bit high-pitched when compared to your speaking voice," he admitted, "but hearing it now, I understand how it fits you. Which reminds me, why is your voice so different here?"

The buzzer in the living room went off and she sighed. "There's Dee," she said, gently pushing Cullen back into her bedroom. "I'm going to let her in. Just stay here until I call for you. Okay? She's not going to believe you're you at first. She knows you, and where you're from. It shouldn't be possible for you to be here. Not as far as anyone knew, at least."

"She knows me?" Cullen repeated, glancing up at the apartment door as he backed into the bedroom. "Does she also come to Thedas as you do?"

"Yes, but you wouldn't know her," Cora admitted, "she goes to a different Thedas - a different reality - where the Inquisitor is a man in love with Dorian." She turned from the room, recognizing Cullen's silent demand for further explanation as the buzzer sounded again, this time longer. "I'll tell you more later. But let me open the door for Dee first. Okay?"

"Yes, of course." He murmured, and she hurried to the door, flipping the knobs for the locks and opening it cautiously.

"Hey chica," she smiled awkwardly, and Dee's eyes roved over to the tv and the computer first off.

"Hey girl. So you got something to show me or what?"

"Yeah. But first sit. Okay?"

Beside her Dee gave her that familiar look of rapidly thinning patience. "Cora, you're freaking me out here."

"You're not the only one who's done that in the last twenty-four hours." Cora admitted. "Now, sit."

"Ugh! Fine!" Dee plopped down carelessly into Cora's empty armchair and tried to glare up at her friend through her unease. "There, I'm sitting. Are you happy? What's the deal?"

Walking over to stand in front of the hall that lead to her bedroom and bathroom, Cora turned her head slightly so that her voice would carry. "Okay, you can come out now."

Barely daring to breathe, the blonde watched her friend closely as Cullen entered the room behind her, moving to stand at her side. Dee's eyes widened impossibly at the sight of the man next to her, but Cora kept her cool, waiting for a reaction.

"Whoa," Dee's face split into an appreciative grin as she leaned forward in her seat eagerly. "Man, that's amazing! What did you do - get plastic surgery? You look exactly like him!"

Cora swallowed. She had figured Dee wouldn't just assume he was the real deal. Hell, two days ago Cora would have called bullshit. "This is my friend," she said, turning to Cullen and gesturing to the girl in the chair, "Delia Sanchez. But everyone calls her Dee for short. Would you introduce yourself?"

"Certainly," Cullen said, and gave a bow with his shoulders as though the woman seated before him was a member of Orlesian nobility he didn't detest, and not a short, frumpy little thing in a maxi-skirt and a glasses, gaping at him like he was about to perform acrobatics for her or something. "I am Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition's armies. It is a pleasure, Ms. Sanchez."

"How…" The smile vanished like paint thinner thrown on a portrait and Dee blinked at Cora for a second before turning back to Cullen. "How did you do that? With your voice? And your face? You're… Jesus you're spot on!"

"Chica," Cora called and her friend looked up from behind her plastic frames, slightly dazed, "we screwed up. He IS Cullen."

A snort erupted from the chair. "Fuck off. No he's not."

"Dee I'm not playing with you. It's him!"

Dee scowled, her voice oozing in that patronizing way she could get when she thought she was right and everyone else was wrong. "No. It's an uber-fan who took cosplay to the next level. And now you're hot for him because he looks exactly like the character you've been obsessing over since Origins. But I'm tellin' you right now," she continued, pointing an accusing finger towards the man standing next to Cora, "he might be good, but dude has issues if he went that far."

"Delia. Look at me." Cora said seriously. "I am not playing here. It's him. He busted through my TV yesterday at 9:41 in the morning. 9:41 - as in the year Inquisition started? As it, the same time you uploaded the next mod to make him more _real_? Well surprise! It fucking worked!"

Black hair swayed heavily around her face as she shook her head slowly. "No," she said a little quieter, "no. This is another trick of yours."

Cora was about to lose her patience. Dee was stubborn as hell, and about as Earth-bound as someone could get, but how could she think that there was someone in this world who could get the _impersonation_ that right?

But it was Cullen who stepped up first; his hand draped over his sword in unconscious habit. "Miss Sanchez, if you can think of another plausible explanation for my being here," he said - all business just like when he was in the war room, "I would be grateful if you would share it. I for one would very much like to return home."

"Chica," Cora sighed, "be serious now. Look at him. Every detail is right - all the way down to his freckle on his right cheek and his laugh lines. There's no way he's a fake. No surgeon is that good. Even you have to admit that. And then the voice? Come on!"

Dee didn't respond or even move for that matter, not even when she started to wheeze like a balloon slowly leaking air. Cora shook her head and pounced.

"Dammit, your inhaler." She muttered, and rifled through her friend's messenger bag until she found it, shoving it in between the frozen woman's lips and counting to three before pressing down, gratified to see Dee take a long pull from the canister. Shaking fingers rose up to cover Cora's and another dose was squeezed down into the dark-haired woman's lungs before the inhaler was pulled away.

"Holy shit, Cora," she breathed, "I mean - holy shit! Is it really… _him?_ "

"Yeah," Cora sighed, "Yeah, it's him. Cullen, why don't you have a seat."

Together she and her friend watched as their ally from a fantasy world sat on the couch across from the chair. Not wanting him to feel like a bug in a jar, Cora waited for him to get settled and then sat beside him. "Well, that went better than I thought." She sighed.

"La madre que te parió! Cora!" Dee cried, "You have fucking Cullen Rutherford in your living room! How is this even a thing?" Wild eyes turned to the man at her side as Dee's arms waived expressively, her voice rising to a squeaky shriek. _"How are you a thing!?"_

"Well that's just it, Dee," she sighed, her patience thinning, "I don't know. But I think the mod you loaded into my machine did it."

"My mod?" Dee gaped, her eyes skipping back and forth between Cullen and Cora repeatedly. "How the hell does a mod make a person?"

"I don't know, but we need to figure it out," Cora said. "Because if yesterday was any sort of a clue, he's not up on the idea of staying here forever."

Beside her Cullen paled slightly, "No, I can't..." Immediately her hand was on his.

"I know, Cullen," she soothed, "I know. Don't worry. Dee and I will get you back. I promise."

XXXX

It took a few to bring Dee up to speed once her friend had calmed down, and poked Cullen about seven or eight times in the face and arms "just to be sure." Cullen had scowled, muttered "Maker's Breath" once or twice, and at the final invasion glared at Dee and announced that his physical presence had not changed in the five minutes he had been seated beside her, so could she bloody well stop prodding him? Cora figured work would be the best distraction, and so she turned on her "Inquisitorialness," as Varric had once called the title, and started in on what she knew.

Last night she'd researched the Fade for hours before finally passing out on the couch, and while there was a lot of posts and threads, most of it was just conjecture. And absolutely nothing about how to travel between worlds using the Fade rifts.

Then she started looking at it from different angles. Things like eluvians, and the magic crystal Dee's Inquisitor got from romancing Dorian, and the anchor. There were so many items that danced the line between Thedas and the Fade. She and Dee had stumbled onto that line too, and now she had to figure out what it had been. The internet had failed her - after all, this wasn't exactly cannon, so why would people put serious thought into trying to figure it out?

And of course she wondered again why she wasn't freaking right the hell out. Here she was seriously researching magic - not that hocus-pocus Houdini shit but real magic - and trying to figure out how to apply it to the real world. If it wasn't for the adonis sitting next to her on the couch she might laugh it off as sleep deprivation or caffeine overdose and check herself into the hospital for a little medicated R&R. But he was there, smelling like her styling products and metal and leather and - _Christ why does he smell so good?_

Giving herself a harsh mental shake and a slight physical one just to put herself in check, Cora picked up her keyboard and brought up the file folder she'd set up the night before - inside were articles and copies from forum boards she'd copied for later reference.

"So far everything I've found online gives hints about traveling to other parts of Thedas, or to the Fade. Nothing about other worlds."

"No shit," Dee muttered, "we're not talking Mass Effect here."

"Dee," the blond woman sighed in frustration and the woman opposite her pushed at her glasses sheepishly.

"Sorry," her friend muttered between her teeth and Cora blew it off.

"So we're in uncharted territory here," she went on, "and that means it's time for some inside information." Blue eyes trained up to the rich caramel ones beside her, and Cullen blinked.

"Wait," he drawled cautiously, "you believe that I might have information on what happened?"

"You worked as a templar for the better part of your adult life," Cora pointed out, "didn't you learn anything about magic?"

"Only the basic applications so that we could counter it when necessary," the former templar pointed out stiffly. "Discussing magical theory with the apprentices wasn't exactly an encouraged practice in the Circle." Cora frowned.

"Right." She grumbled. "I forgot about that. Why try to understand when it's easier just to be afraid and angry?" She'd always found that part of the game annoying: the whole hatred of all things magic. Shit, if magic existed in this world think of all the good it could do! Cancer, the environment, so many things could be so much better! Yeah, sure, there'd be a whole new set of problems, but locking up all mages sure as hell wasn't the answer.

Cullen frowned at her side. "That's not what I-" He sighed. "Forgive me. I did not mean to offend."

"Just forget it," Cora waved off her hand, wondering why in the hell she should get so upset over his reaction. It's not like she was really a mage. Her character was, but that was just a character. Right? "What I'm looking for from you is information on what happened before you landed here. What was going on exactly at that last moment? I get that the whole situation was probably crazy, but did anything stand out?"

Cullen sat quietly, staring off into space for a while, his eyebrows pulling down into a faint scowl here or there as he went through whatever motions he had to in his head.

"You..." he said at last, "you had your staff drawn. You were fighting off a shriek that was too close to allow you to safely put away your weapon. I was approaching you to take over fighting the creature so you could close the rift. I came up right beside you-"

"I remember," Cora said, "I saw you come up to my left. I put my staff away and started in on the rift. Then I hit pause on the ga- on the keyboard," she corrected quickly, "so I could grab some food."

"You walked away?" Cullen frowned. "No… no you were still there at my side. Right up until..." his eyes trailed over the the doorway into the kitchen, "until you were standing there."

"You were in the television, until I left the room…" Cora thought out loud. "until we weren't together anymore… like the mod was programed to make us…"

"I don't understand."

"What if," Cora continued quietly, as though he had never spoken, "what if you came through because the mod was doing what it was supposed to?"

"What?"

From her seat Cora vaguely heard Dee speak up. "Give her a second. This is how she works. She's not going to hear a thing you say or make any sense to the rest of us until she pulls herself out of her own head."

Cora ticked through her teeth and turned her attention to her best friend. The idea was unraveling in her mind like a coil of rope and if she didn't get it out quickly it would end up a tangled, unusable mess. "Be quiet and hear me out," she blurted, pulling up the folder where her mods were loaded and sorting down to the newest addition. "You load a mod into my computer at 9:41. 9:41 is also the year the Inquisition started."

"I'm following," Dee said, her eyes trained on the television screen.

"The mod was one for Cullen," Cora went on, "to make his interactions possible outside of Skyhold, right? So you load a mod meant to make Cullen more interactive. And at the same time he has another mod active on him that keeps him with me - he can leave Skyhold to follow me. So he's standing next to me when a mod is loaded to make interacting with him more realistic. In the fight I connect the anchor to a rift so that I can close it. Then I leave the room here."

Dee scowled. "Okay, now you're losing me." Cullen wore an equally perplexed look on his face.

Cora sighed in exasperation. _Why could no one see where she was going with this?_

"You loaded that exact mod at that exact moment and while I had a Fade rift in my hand," Cora explained, holding up her hand like her Inquisitor did when closing a rift. "A Fade rift that lets people - things - slip between worlds. Then I froze the fight, mid rift-sealing. While that rift was frozen in place, I left the room. I 'broke' the mod that kept Cullen with me, while at the same time another mod made him more real. What if, in our own way, we were unlocking the door for that rift here? Giving the magic an exit door to go through, which took Cullen since the mod was for him? Because both mods were meant to keep Cullen and I together - _and I was in another room."_

"You're talking magic and Fade rifts, girl, but I'm looking at something that was only ever digital coding turned into pixels on your TV. How in the hell are you telling me that the magic was real? It's nothing but an electronic story!"

"Then how is _he_ here?" Cora countered, slapping a palm to Cullen's bicep and hearing the solid ring of skin against metal. "Huh? Come on now. I know you're not one for stepping outside your programers' coding, but try to have a little imagination here."

"Look, all I'm telling you is what I see." Dee argued. "Sure he's here, I get that. I think. _Jesus_. But if you ask me to link that to a real Thedas existing in my computer I'm gonna call you a liar. Thedas is a story, made up by people working for a company that wanted to sell a video game!"

Cullen bristled. "A _game_?"

"Then give me a better answer." Cora demanded impatiently. "Where did he come from?"

"I don't know." Dee grumbled. "Someone give us a businessman's trip when we were at the bar?"

"Seriously?" Cora snorted, slightly offended for Cullen that Dee would reference drug abuse with him sitting right here - even if he didn't understand the slang term. "A hallucination that took two days to kick in? Kind of hard to imagine - especially because neither of us do that shit. Come on Dee, you can do better than that." Cora loved the woman - counted Dee as one of the few people who actually understood her - but sometimes the blonde found her friend's stubbornness to be a royal pain in the ass. If Dee didn't feel like listening to you, you weren't going to get your point across. Period.

"I can't!" The dark woman exploded from her seat. "Yeah, I see him and hear him, and get that the odds of some Joe Schmoe from the street hitting the mark _this_ hard are about a billion to one, but this is still pushing the limits of my logic, Cora. For shit's sake - you have a fucking video game character in your living room! And now you're trying to tell me that I'm somehow part of the reason he's here. I'm sorry for trying to figure out a way to make the world make sense again."

"I understand completely." Cullen mumbled quietly and Dee barked a laugh at him. Cora's hackles immediately went up, but Cullen didn't seem to mind. "I do," he pressed. "You live your life believing that the world is orderly. That it makes sense. That there are rules which can never be broken, and safeguards in place which can never be breached." His eyes slid from Dee to the gloved hands on his lap; palms turned up like he was supposed to be holding something. "You hold these beliefs in such high regard that you decide to dedicate your life to them. And then, just like that, everything changes. The more you learn of these safeguards and rules, the more you understand that the world is nothing of what you thought it to be. It is a terrifying place of madness and danger, and no matter how desperately you try, you can never reclaim that peace you once held to." He shook his head sadly. "You can only press on, and hope that someday, perhaps if you do well enough, you can start it on its path to that world you once lived in."

There was silence for a while, and at last Dee piped up, quieter now and a hell of a lot less obstinate, thank God. "And you want to go back there?"

"It's my home," Cullen answered, lifted his eyes back to her stoically. "It's where the people I love are..." his gaze slid over to Cora. "Most of them, at any rate."

Her heart jumped into her throat. _Holy shit._ Did he just look at her like...

"You made it here, okay?" She pointed out quickly, not certain if going down the path she had been tiptoeing on was a good idea. "Reason stands that there has to be a way back. We don't need to know all of the rules behind it. We've just gotta figure out how to pick the lock."

"Then we're out of luck." Cullen sulked. "You're a mage and I'm a fighter. But what we need is a rogue."

Cora smiled widely. "We've got one." She stated, and pointed her finger to Dee. "If you're up for the challenge, Levellan."

Dee sighed and plunked back down in her chair. Forget that she played as a bow-wielder in the game - in the real world Dee could hack a system like nobody's business. Cora joked that her ability to break into anything electronic was why Dee played as rogues - it suited her real-life nature.

And it seemed that, in spite of her current opinion, Dee couldn't resist the challenge even now. "God I can't believe I'm buying into this." Dee's sigh was dramatic and heavy and everything that someone who didn't want to take part in this would do. But that light was starting to sparkle in those brown-black eyes already. "I must be out of my effing mind. Alright, Cora. What do you need from me?"

Cora grinned, and suddenly the name of Dee's latest and greatest mod seemed too appropriate.

 _Girl, I get what I want!_

XXXX


	4. Mod Everything

**STEP FOUR: MOD EVERYTHING**

After hours of pouring over lore snippets in her computer, Cora and Dee were no closer to figuring out what had happened than they had been that morning. Cora had kicked up the octane on her coffee, brewing it stronger in the hopes that it would help, but even that wasn't working. The Bioware writers hadn't left any breadcrumbs connecting Earth to Thedas like game writers had in some other franchises, and the Dragon Age fanbase was more absorbed with living vicariously in the world of Thedas than they were in imagining ways of connecting the two worlds. She couldn't be upset about that - she was just as enthralled with Thedas and its intricacies. How could anyone not love a setting that was so layered and complex; it was fulfilling, but still left so much open for imagination! It was also no wonder so many people dreamed of going there instead of trying to find a way to make there here.

For his part, Cullen was able to give her additional insight into what he knew was and was not possible within the laws of Thedas' magic, but nothing set off any bells.

But she started to notice the little things as they spoke, like how she wasn't swearing that much anymore. Weird. Normally she and Dee could fly into tangents that would have sailors gaping. But the more she'd been talking with Cullen, the less she'd been using her more colorful vocabulary. Maybe it was because he didn't swear that much, and she was unconsciously following his lead. Maybe it was because he had this way of making her feel like she was someone to be respected and admired… and she really, really wanted to live up to that. Either way it didn't bother her like she thought it should have.

What also became abundantly clear to her was that with Dee's lack of fairy-tale imagination, and Cullen's inexperience with the real world or the nuances of magic, Cora was going to have to come up with the connection herself. But after more than a day of living through the impossible, her brain just wasn't capable of pushing the envelope anymore. Idea after idea was brought up and then flushed almost immediately.

And then it happened. Cullen - who had been cooperating with more good grace and consideration than she thought he had ever been capable of, while trying not to interrupt as the women before him brainstormed for hours on end - finally lost his patience.

"I can't believe you have so little knowledge about something you dabble in so freely," he said, tossing up his hands lightly and shaking his head in frustration. "You claim such superior skills as to be able to alter the very fabric of my world, yet you can't even figure out how to open that door!" His hand waved impatiently towards Cora's television. "You sit here and bicker over magic you claim to know nothing about, and all the while you ignore what is right in front of you."

Cora stiffened. She had watched him rant at nobles, at his soldiers, and even at his fellow advisors before, but he had never blown up at her directly, and her temper immediately jumped at the chance to rear its head.

"Whoa! Back it up, buster! We don't discuss what we already know," she argued, barely managing to gnash back her anger at being talked to like she was a twit, "because we already _know_ that it's not the sole cause. What we 'dabble' in, as you put it, was never meant to include real magic. Real magic doesn't exist here, and I only know enough about Thedas' magic to use the spells you've seen me use in fights. That's why we're discussing it so much - we know it plays a part in how you got here, and we need to figure out how.

"And you're right," she barked before he could start in on her again, "my television is a door now, even though that's not its design, and Dee and I are working like hell to find its key. We're doing the best we can, but you need to give us a chance here. Like you said earlier - if you've got a better approach at figuring this out, then by all means do share. Otherwise you need to calm down and cut us some slack. We're not Morrigan, after all. I don't know about old magic or whatever you want to call it. I'm doing my best here!"

She must have looked pretty pissed, because Cullen's wide amber eyes immediately softened with real regret. "Forgive me," the commander sighed, shaking his head slowly, "that was... uncalled for. Of course you're trying. I…" His eyes slipped over to the keyboard sitting on the coffee table and Cora waited, able to see that he was puzzling something out in his head. Dee shifted impatiently in her own seat, and earned a quick, tiny shake of the head from Cora. If he was going to contribute something she wanted to hear it. And after the way he'd just acted it had better be good!

Finally he got it out of his mouth. "You keep mentioning a... mod. A mod that somehow changed how you were able to interact with me." So far Dee and Cora had been dancing around the topic that he had been nothing more than a computer program since they first started getting into the logistics of the game. They'd given him a vague explanation that inside of the television it was like a play, with a script that they had to follow, and that a mod was a change to that script. She figured that dehumanizing him completely by telling him the truth - or what they _thought_ had been the truth - would just make matters worse. "Would it be presumptuous of me to assume that I am this 'key'?"

"I've been thinking the same thing, actually," Cora admitted, her anger fizzling at an idea that was honestly pretty good, "but I'm not entirely certain how you are the key. You're not a mage, so how did you magic over here?"

"I'm no mage," Cullen agreed, "but you are - in Thedas at any rate. Didn't this mod impact my interactions with you? What if it was your magic there that was tapped into?"

Cora felt her pulse kick up with real excitement. _Finally - something that made sense!_ "Yes, Cullen!" She gasped, her eyes trailing off so that she completely missed the look of surprise on his face. "But if we go from that angle, then you wouldn't be the key. I would be. And if my magic is the key, or even the anchor, and modding you opened the door from that side..."

Her mind stumbled and she forgot that she was talking for a moment, until Dee poked her arm, calling for her to return to Earth.

"You gave Cullen a more realistic interaction scenario," she said, careful to keep her words from rushing out in an over-caffeinated slur. "You modded him to make his interactions with me more realistic."

"Yeah, and?"

"Mod me." Cora said excitedly. "Mod the Inquisitor."

Dee scowled. "But she's already modded. You modded the shit out of her, actually."

"Just her looks." Cora corrected. "She doesn't have my personality. Or my voice. And her interactions were scripted by someone else. Give her responses I would say. Can you do that?" The dark eyes behind the glasses widened impossibly.

"Holy shit, Cora," Dee breathed, "do you know what you're asking? All of that dialogue. All of the scripts we'd have to write. The voice recordings you'd have to do. Do you know how long that will take? Voice actors are in the studios for months!"

Cora leaned forward, confident that this was the right idea. Now, like always, she just had to get Dee to see it wasn't going to be that hard. "What if we change the pitch of the Inquisitor's current voice? Extract the vanilla voice and play with the tones so that it matches me for the most part. Then we only have to change some of the dialogue. Really only the stuff that directly interacts with Cullen, I think. He was only modded as far as his interactions with me. I think the reverse should work for how I respond to him."

"That's still... a lot of work." Dee sighed, briefly taking off her glasses to press at her eyes. "I'd have to export the current voice, buy the programing to modulate the voice on that level, get you in to record the custom dialogue we write... match pitches and lip animations for variations..."

"I'll buy the program, and sit for as long as you need." Cora offered, getting more and more excited that they were on the right track. They had to be! "And I'll try to write dialogue that sticks as close to the original animation as I can. Can you do it?"

Dee was quiet for a long second, staring at Cullen before shaking her head. "Yeah," she muttered, "yeah I can do it. You're sure it will work?"

"It's like Cullen said, the door has to open from both ways. The Inquisitor opened it for Cullen to get him here. Now she has to open it to bring him home."

Dee was still pretty worried about the amount of labor it was going to take, but Cora ignored it. She knew her friend. Once Dee was at her terminal with all of that programing and coding in front of her she would be in her element.

"Let's do it," Dee sighed at last. "Let's mod everything."

XXXX

Hours later Dee had three shiny new computer programs she'd need to pull off a near total overhaul of Cora's 'Quizzy' - courtesy of Cora and her For-Emergency-Use-Only credit card. Normally the dark haired woman had no trouble taking off at the end of a visit, but this time she lagged around longer than normal, almost reluctant to leave.

"He's not going anywhere, chica," Cora had assured at last, "that's kind of the problem, remember?"

"Right." Dee murmured, nodding her head a little. "Right. I just… keep wondering when I'm going to wake up, you know?"

"Believe me," Cullen smirked a little, "the same thought has been crossing my mind since I arrived."

A nervous laugh barked out of Cora's short friend and finally she gave a half-hearted wave as she let herself out, and Cora let loose the sigh she hadn't realized she'd been holding on to. It had been a wild day, from her irregular sleep schedule to the emotional roller coaster she'd taken a trip on, to her caffeine overdose - she'd run the gamut and she she just wanted to shut her brain down and relax. This was normally where she would pick up her keyboard and pop into Thedas for a virtual vacation, but with Cullen sitting right here somehow that seemed cruel.

And now that the planning and the progress was on hold while Dee went home to install her software, Cullen seemed… almost lost. There was nothing to fight, nothing to plan. There was just unoccupied time, and the freedom to let his thoughts run away with him.

 _Yeah, not a good idea._

Clapping her hands loudly, Cora plastered a giant grin to her face. "Alright! Work's done for the day!" She stood, ignoring the way he stared at her with a confused, sort of sad expression on his face, and reached down to tug at his hand. "Time for some fun. Come on. We're going to get you presentable. Take off your armor and fur. You're going out in your clothes for right now."

"What are you talking about?" Cullen scowled, remaining fixed in his seat despite her insistent pulling at his arm. "This is what I always wear - what about my uniform isn't presentable?"

"You're war room ready, yeah," Cora agreed, giving a harder yank at his arm like an insistent kid, "But now you need to be able to go out without getting stared at. That means something that fits in here. Come on - we're going shopping!"

And when honey colored eyes widened. "Maker, no." It wasn't a voice of honest terror; more like the guy who realized he was being asked to buy underwear for his mother. At that point she was pretty certain he'd rather be fighting red templars… and she found herself increasingly amused by the whole idea. It was like Wicked Grace all over again.

"Oh yes, Cullen!" She grunted, throwing her full weight into her final tug and finally succeeding in getting him off of the cushion enough to coax him to his feet. "You'll have me with you, it will be fine!"

"I've seen the way you talk fashion with Vivienne," Cullen scowled, "nothing about that tells me that this will be 'fine'." Cora laughed outright and reached down for her purse.

"Either you come with me and tell me what you like or don't like, or I'm going to go myself, and you'll end up dressed like an Orlesian noble at court," she threatened, knowing full well that there was nowhere in the city she could get her hands on that sort of clothing - not outside of Halloween, of course. But he didn't need to know that.

Drawn brows furrowed impossibly. "You wouldn't."

With an evil smirk on her lips Cora pressed a finger to her cheek, overacting the part for herself as much for him as she spun her wheels to think up the most repulsive outfit in his opinion, "I'd love to see you in a peacock blue velvet, with gold silk trim to match your hair. Maybe some gold hose and-"

"Enough!" Cullen barked and she laughed again. "I'll go, if only to keep you from actually making good on your mad scheming. Andraste preserve me, I know better than to think you wouldn't follow through."

XXXX

Getting him out of the apartment was far easier this time than before. Getting him into the mall had him groaning like he was being corralled into the Winter Palace again. The shops and skylights and perfumes in the air had him rolling his eyes and… what was it she had seen the fandoms call it online? Muttering in Ferelden? Yup. That was real, and he was definitely doing it!

Still, even though he complained and scowled through most of their trip, she didn't miss the looks she was getting when she would hold a shirt to his chest, or get upset at the cost of jeans; how his barely-visible smile said more about what he was thinking than any words she could think of.

Or the way his fingers would tighten around hers when she would grab at his hand to pull him into a store unexpectedly.

And this time when the girly, warm, fluttering feeling filled her belly, Cora didn't try to stamp it down.

Not even when those little whispers told her way back in the dark corners of her mind that she was so royally screwed.

A couple of hours later her credit card had taken another considerable hit, but she decided that it was totally worth it. The burgundy t-shirt and the khaki cargo pants he now wore had been perfect for him, so she'd informed the guy behind the counter that Cullen would wear them out, tore off the tags and sent the blonde man back to the dressing rooms to change again; stuffing his Thedas clothes into the shopping bag. He'd need those when it was time to go back, she'd thought briefly before pushing that little tidbit from her head.

Since then she'd noticed more than a few women - some barely old enough to be called that - taking in an eyeful of him as they'd made the rounds buying up three more outfits and a pair of brown boots. None of them came near, of course, but that didn't stop them from grinning and giggling, or trying to flirt from a distance, which was just as laughable when she thought back to how he had acted at the ball.

Finally she decided he had enough clothes and that she was starving. Living off of coffee only for a full day was probably not healthy. She found a pretzel stand near their last stop and together the pair got into the line where Cullen stood staring off to one-side, scowling until he leaned in towards her. "You said that if I dressed properly no one would stare," he muttered as Cora rifled through her over-sized purse for the twenty dollar bill she knew was in there somewhere. She didn't want to use her card for four dollars in snacks.

She chuckled from the depths of her purse. "Hey, I can't fault a girl for admiring such a nice view."

"You-what?" He was spluttering again, and she was sure that if she looked up he'd be rubbing the back of his neck. "I- No. No it's not the women. It's a pair of men this time. Maker tell me I don't have to worry about that here, too."

"Ooh!" Cora's interests were piqued and she pulled herself out of her bag, her head spinning around trying to find Cullen's admirers. "Really? Where? Are they cute?"

"Maker's breath, are you serious? You can't be serious." He rolled his eyes when she started chuckling and nodded is head pointedly. "They're inside that vendor's stall across the way," he replied and Cora followed his gesture across the corridor, and her whole body turned to lead.

Shit.

It was the video game store, and a couple of guys inside where staring at Cullen in a way that told Cora that they knew who Cullen Rutherford was. Shit, she'd forgotten about this place. How could she have forgotten? She shopped there, for Christ's sake!

"Oh crap, Cullen," she murmured, "we need to get out of here."

"What? Why?"

"Dee isn't the only one who's visited Thedas," she admitted, getting out of line, her eyes glued on the game store. "Lots of people do, and I think they have. If they-"

"Yo! Hey, man!" One of them was now trotting out of the store and waving at Cullen with a wide grin on his face.

"Cullen, don't speak." Cora panicked. "Remember Dee when she heard your voice? Just don't."

"Yo, buddy!" The guy stopped before Cora and Cullen. "Dude, you must have heard this before, but do you know you look exactly like-"

"Cullen Rutherford, from that one dragon game, right?" Cora finished, her brain spinning a mile a minute as she spun the lie before it was even fully formed. "Yeah, he gets that a lot. Did a modeling stint a while back and sold some of his pictures. Few years ago he gets a call from some agency wanting him to sit for facial scans. He did it, got paid decent money, and then next thing we know his face is on merchandise all over the place. I didn't know that's how they did that. Did you?"

"Nah… man that's crazy!" The gamer in front of them leaned back. "Yo. Please man. Let me get a picture with you? My girl will flip!"

Cora sighed, and turned to Cullen, holding up her fingers like a box in front of her eyes and then pressing her index finger down on an imaginary button. "Another picture." She muttered, trying to look like they'd been through this a hundred times before. Thank God Cullen followed her lead and sighed like this was old news to him, even though he probably had no idea what she was talking about. Holding up her fist in front of her, she rocked it forward. "Yes?" She asked.

"Whoa," the gamer murmured, "is that sign language?"

"Yep," Cora said, hoping the guy wouldn't want her to show him more. She knew about a half dozen signs and most of the alphabet from back when she and her middle school friend had decided it would be a great 'secret language'. "So you might not want to ask him to say quotes from the game. He can read lips, but he can't speak. He's been deaf his entire life."

"No, that's cool." The guy said, holding up a hand like a boy scout. "I totally get that. But man… my girl would love your picture."

Cora looked back at Cullen, and rocked her fist again. "Yes?" She asked again. Cullen thought for a second, and then mimicked the hand gesture, taking a step back when the gamer leapt where he stood and hooted.

"Alright! Thanks, uh-"

"Will," Cora lied quickly, trying to think of a generic name. "And I'm Cora. It's nice to meet you…"

"Gabe." The gamer answered, and pulled out his cell phone as he shook their hands. "I'm Gabe. Dude, you need to go to Comic Con!"

"Yeah," Cora muttered, holding the phone up before her, "so he's been told."

The two posed and she took the picture, with Cullen plastering a patient smile onto his face and Gabe looking excited enough to jump out of his own skin. With a final goodbye Cora threaded her fingers through Cullen's like they were a couple out for a stroll and lead him around the corner and away from the store.

"Are you going to tell me what all of that was about?" He asked once they were out of sight of the game shop.

Cora sighed. "Do I have to?"

"Truthfully no, you don't," he admitted. "But I would like to know how it is that so many people in a world I've never been to before seem to know me."

She was cornered, and now it felt shitty lying to him about the truth - or what she knew of the truth. He had a right to know, after all. Since he had first landed on her living room floor, she'd been promising to give him his answers "later." Well, it looked to her like "later" was finally here.

At least they were in public…

"Alright," she said, guiding him towards one of the chain restaurants inside the mall for a bite to eat and some… conversation. "I can only tell you what I know, but I'll tell you all of it.

"There are these companies that make… visual stories," she started, still refusing to use the word 'game' out of respect for Cullen and what he'd gone through. "Stories you can interact with, so that you can feel like a part of it. They sell these stories worldwide - anyone can buy them, as long as you're old enough and have the money. That's how I - how everyone here who knows you - found you. They've seen the stories about Thedas. About you."

"Me?"

"Partly," she said. "Stories about the Fifth Blight, the fall of Kirkwall, and the Inquisition."

She paused, smiling at the hostess when they entered the diner she'd chosen. The woman took them to a table and gave them their laminated menus before busying herself away again, leaving Cora to meet Cullen's eyes across the table.

"For me, it all started with the story about the Fifth Blight: Dragon Age: Origins…"

XXXX


	5. Romance the LI

**STEP FIVE: ROMANCE THE L.I.**

She sat on her couch, lost in her own head and staring into the mug in her hands that she'd taken one small sip from so far. Again she glanced up to her bedroom door, which had been closed since last night, when she and Cullen had returned to her apartment, and he had muttered a very quiet - very distracted - "good night."

If hiding the truth from him had made her feel like shit, telling it to him had been worse. She had never mentioned the word 'game.' It was always 'the story,' 'the recount' even; words that had given her the feeling of telling him something she had read in history books. Facts that she had learned and knew to be one hundred percent true.

Until she started telling him about events that she could not have known unless she had been there - events where the Inquisitor had never been present. And after the look of blind shock started to wear off, he had started to ask questions, getting angrier and angrier with each demand; reminding her that while Cullen may be the "hit first-ask later" kind of guy, but that by no means meant he was stupid.

"You're telling me that you were the Hero of Ferelden AND the Inquisitor?"

"If you were also the Champion, how was it that the Champion fought by the side of the Inquisitor?"

"Is my love nothing but a shadow? A puppet on your strings?"

That last one hurt. Oh Jesus, did it hurt. He'd basically called her a fraud. A fake. And the worst of it was that she knew he was right. She'd never been to Thedas. She'd played it, through a computer, but that meant jack shit in the grand scheme of his life.

"I don't know," she had said quietly, staring down at her gyro and wishing she could just take it all back. She wished she could undo the look of pain, of anger, of _betrayal_ across his face.

But she couldn't. She'd taken him back to her place, made up another lie - she was good at that, isn't she? - that she had some work to do on the computer, so he should just go to bed, and then had sat there in her living room alone and cursed herself out under her breath. She'd brought this on herself. She'd better not fucking cry. She didn't have the right. She did this - this was her fault. She'd been so wrapped up in wanting to call herself his beloved that she forgot the part where he was a human being. He wasn't pixels on the screen anymore; and there was no reset button now that she'd picked the wrong dialog option.

This had gone on for an hour or so, until she'd finally passed out. And now she sat on her couch, wearing the same clothes from yesterday and staring at the coffee she didn't think she wanted.

 _Stupid. She was so stupid._

Finally the door knob down the hall squeaked and she jumped a little - nearly spilling her coffee onto her lap - and watched as Cullen emerged, his head bowed and tilted in that way that said he was upset and couldn't find the right words just yet.

Cora leaned forward and set her mug on the table. "Morning," she said softly.

He nodded without looking at her. "Good morning."

She cleared her throat and dropped her face towards her lap. She'd never been any good at this, but that didn't get her out of at least trying. "I… uh… I owe you…"

"I believe it is I who owe you," he broke in the she stalled out, "the things I said to you… they were uncalled for. You did nothing more than give me the truth that I asked for. And I in turn lashed out at you for it."

Cora shook her head. "You had good reason to. I can't imagine I'd have acted any better."

"No, you did only what I asked of you, and I took out my anger - my fear - on you. You didn't deserve that. I'm sorry."

"Cullen, you don't have to- I mean, you were right to be angry. You were right to call me a liar. There was a lot I didn't tell you before."

"That there was," Cullen admitted, moving to lower himself hesitantly onto the couch beside her, "and at first I was willing to be furious at you for it. But then I remembered my time with the Amell, and with Hawke, and I can see nothing of them in you.

And then I recalled that you've physically walked through the Fade twice."

Cora's brow arched. She wasn't following him.

"As the Inquisitor, yes," she said simply. "But… I don't see how that answers any of your questions about how I've been all three people in one lifetime."

"By its self it doesn't," Cullen replied, "but then Solas gave me the answer."

Cora's hackles lifted at the mention of that one's name. "What?" Had the Trickster been _here_? Was that even possible? The idea of that man screwing with her reality...

"In prior conversations," Cullen explained, and Cora felt her lungs empty with relief, "Solas said that in the Fade he could experience memories of others, relive them as though he had been there, and see them from countless different viewpoints. Perhaps that's how you watched the lives of Amell and Hawke unfold."

"So you're willing to believe that I only… watched the lives of Amell and Hawke… but that somehow I'm still really your Inquisitor? Cullen, that makes no sense."

The man at her side shook his head. "Falling through that doorway, ending up here, in this world, that makes no sense." His hand lifted towards her to gently push a lock of her hair away from her cheek with the tips of his fingers. "But your face, the look in your eyes when you lose your temper, your laugh… those are all as I remember them. Exactly as I remember them. If this is a trick of the Fade, if this is nothing more than a dream, I am confident of at least one thing. You are… my Cora." Cora's mouth opened, and Cullen shook his head. "Please," he whispered softly, "allow me this."

Her breath caught. The prayer scene… he was asking her - _begging her_ \- for hope. Just as he had before sending her off to Corypheus as he had in her prior play-throughs. It hurt more now than it had then. Because then she had known she'd live. But here… here she was becoming less certain about what was what with ever passing second.

She wouldn't lie to him… but she wouldn't crush that hope either. Not when it was her hope, too.

"I don't know how this is possible," Cora admitted, "if I'm the woman you love or not. But I… I want to be."

Warmth engulfed her, and her breath caught when she realized he had pulled her to him. No kissing. No heat. Just his nose buried in her neck and his arms around her shoulders. And oh God…

Oh God… she was so screwed.

But her arms wrapped around his waist and she sighed into his shoulder anyway.

"I have known demons and illusions before." He whispered, softer but more certain than he had been before. "And this moment is nothing like that. If you cannot believe in yourself, believe _me_. You _are_ Cora Trevelyan."

XXXX

It had been three days since Cora had bought the voice modulating software and started piecing through the Inquisitor's dialogue with Cullen, watching videos of the Inquisitor speaking and thinking of ways she would have phrased things differently. It was harder than she had thought it would be - a lot harder. And then sitting down to do the voice recordings with Dee at her place was just plain embarrassing. Dee was reading Cullen's lines but couldn't get passed her need to snicker at Cora every thirty seconds until at last the woman in the hot-seat blew up.

"How the hell am I supposed to get in the moment and do a halfway decent job of this if you keep giggling like a freaking teenager over there?"

"I'm sorry!" Dee snorted. "But come on, girl, is this really how you talk to a guy?"

Cora growled. "No! This is how I try not to trip over my tongue when I feel like I'm being watched like a damned sitcom!"

"Enough of this." Cullen barked from the other room, and both women jumped at the sudden return of his commander persona as he marched into Dee's home office; still imposing even in his new black t-shirt and dark blue jeans. "Miss Sanchez-"

"God, Cullen, _Dee_." The dark-haired woman sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Fine." Cullen gritted. "Dee. What buttons would I push to start and end the process?"

The programmer scowled, no doubt nervous about the idea of someone touching her equipment. "Why?"

"These words are meant for me, and I think that Cora will find it much easier to make them sound sincere if she was not speaking them to you."

"You mean you record her?" Cora's friend snorted. "Uh-uh. No way. You don't even know what a lightbulb is, let alone how to change one. And now you're asking for my computer?"

"Dee, it's two buttons; start and stop." Cora sighed. "I think he can manage it. And he's got a point. I'll feel like less of a cheese-ball if you're not around roll your eyes at me while I pour my heart out."

It took a few minutes of arguing and a promise from Cora to watch Cullen closely before Dee taught the Ferelden how to use the mouse for her computer, and which buttons he had to activate on the program. Another threat of what Dee would do if they screwed up her gear was thrown out at both of them before Dee stormed out of her apartment.

"She gets like that sometimes," Cora shrugged. "She doesn't like leaving this place. And she really doesn't like people touching her stuff."

"Yet she trusts you," Cullen pointed out, and the blonde woman nodded.

"Yeah, I guess she does. Mostly." Clearing her throat, Cora reached for the notebook Dee had left on the desk. "Alright. Here's your script." They'd learned early on that Cullen could actually read english. Cora guessed it was because the text in her game was written in english, so it translated over into common tongue in Thedas for Cullen. Dee had just rolled her eyes at Cora's hypothesis - she was doing that a lot lately.

Taking the script in one hand, Cullen moved the mouse with the other and waited for Cora's cue that she was ready, as she had been giving Dee. For a split second Cora froze up.

God, she was going to try to romance Cullen! In person!

With a swallow she cued Cullen and started to speak when the time on the program began to run. At first it was easy. The dialogue was platonic; they were at Haven and still strangers. Then she came to the first real flirtation and her face started heating up. The original text had asked Cullen if he had taken up a vow of celibacy, and Cora had drafted lines that would require Dee to change the Inquisitor's mouth animation. There just hadn't been any way around it for some of the lines. And now she fumbled those lines; her jaw hanging open for a second as she wondered exactly how in the hell she was supposed to flirt with _him_. In the game it was easy. She could hit reset. Here there was no reset.

Cullen pressed the stop button. "Why don't you just say it once. Without trying to capture it."

Cora cleared her throat and focused on the paper in front of her. "No," Cullen said softly. "Look at me." Her eyes darted up and he quickly started to stutter, his hand drawn to the back of his neck like a magnet. "After all - you're supposed to be speaking to me. Right?"

"Right. Okay." Another clearing of her throat gave her a second to try to get into the right mindset; to put herself in her Inquisitor's place. Here was a gorgeous man, and she wanted him to notice her as more than just someone who could seal rifts. She wanted him to see her as a woman; as a woman he could want.

"The templars have to give up a lot I take it." She said a little stiffly. "What about those _physical_ needs?" She felt ridiculous but Cullen stifled a smirk and recited his standard lines back, glancing down at the pages occasionally as he went. He even stuttered a bit just like he had in the game, and she felt it become easier to tease him lightly with innuendos and the like; enjoying the way he would blush or stammer or even give that dorky grin that said he was both embarrassed and flattered. Pretty soon she worked out the last bit of her awkwardness and Cullen decided they could go back to capturing their lines.

With the warm-up session done, they started recording again from the beginning. Back and forth the two went for hours; the phrasing becoming more intimate, more attached, and completely natural. There were times when they would have to start a scene over because one of them couldn't keep their composure during a more serious scene; Cora usually getting playfully scolded for 'making light' of a trying time.

All in all Cullen was making an honest effort to play his part well; a man who normally had zero tolerance for anything he felt was a waste of time. Cora counted herself lucky that he was supporting her like he was.

Until the love scene came up, and she realized luck didn't have anything to do with it. They flirted - _hard_ ; stammering over propositioning each other, admitting feelings deeper than they had so far, solidifying their relationship and generally getting really intense. Then the post-coital scene came up and Cora couldn't tell if she was acting or not.

"I love you," she breathed, having decided before that the line was perfect the way it was, "you know that, right?"

He was smiling - all the way up to his eyes smiling - just like he had in the game. "I love you too."

Her heart kicked her in the ribs, and his smile widened as he leaned over his knees towards her.

"Maker, I have always loved the way your eyes light when you say those words," he admitted, and she realized that he was breaking script.

But… this was the first time she'd ever said them out loud to him. At least in real life.

"Even though my voice is different?" She asked, trying not to blush.

"Your voice may be different but your eyes are exactly as I remember them," he breathed, "they may be a shade greener than before, but they hold the same light as the ones belonging to the woman who captured my heart in Haven." Cora blinked.

"Haven? You didn't start flirting with me until Skyhold."

A warm chuckle rumbled from his chest and Cora's stomach melted. "That may be true, but you had my attention well before that. I was actually upset with you at first. You were a distraction, and not something I felt should break my focus on the task at hand."

"Really?" She smiled - that seemed like him. "What changed your mind?" Cullen sobered instantly and Cora swore in her head. She knew, even before he said anything.

"When we lost Haven," he murmured, "and you stayed behind so that we could escape. It was so brave of you, and I couldn't help but to admire you. But then you didn't reach our tents and I thought…" Cullen shook his head. "It doesn't matter. You returned and recovered, and we found each other after that. That is what matters to me." But even though his words said everything was fine, he still looked sad. Or maybe worried. She couldn't tell which. Either way she wasn't going to sit here and force him to drudge up painful memories. Especially not when the next lines in the script were her talking him through his crisis of conscience over his lyrium addiction.

Hell no. He couldn't read those lines. She hadn't gotten to that point in the game yet. He didn't know what was to come.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Cora asked, and the gorgeous man in front of her fell back a step in the conversation.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm hungry," Cora announced. "Let me take you out for some dinner. We've done enough for one day."

"What about Dee?"

Cora smirked and stood. "She's probably stuffing sushi down her throat right now. Ugh. Raw fish."

"Raw?" Cullen looked horrified.

"I know, right?" Cora laughed. "I promise, I won't feed you anything that weird. But you're in Chicago. As your hostess I've so far failed in my unspoken obligation to introduce you to what we are famous for - deep dish pizza!"

"Is this pizza cooked?"

Cora laughed brightly, and picked at his hand to tug him towards the door, feeling warm fingers wrap around hers instantly. _God he was going to kill her._

"Come on, Cullen," she chimed, "you're a tourist here. It's time you started acting like one!"

XXXX

Stupid! How was she so stupid?!

She knew better than this. She'd learned this lesson years ago when she'd first moved to the city. Not first-hand, but that girl from her first desk job in the city - Jenni or Jeri - had been the prime example of what not to do. Sure, she had been in the office's parking lot, but she'd been there way too late at night, and without anyone to walk out of the building with her.

And here she was - doing exactly what had put that poor girl in the hospital a few years ago, and ending up in the same predicament. She should have loaded the pair of them into a taxi after dinner. She should definitely have not taken him for a walk down by the waterfront. Not at night at least. Sure, it was where most of the tourists ended up at some point during the days, and really pretty after dark, but wander too far from the walkways once everything closed up and you were likely to run into people like…

Well, people like this guy.

Cora had heard once that muggers were just as scared as their victims, but the thug standing in front of them right now didn't look as afraid as she felt. Impatient, yes. Tweaked out on something, oh yeah. Undoubtedly. But not scared.

Clearly having her stand there gaping at him like a deer in headlights wasn't to his liking, because the presumed-junkie sneered a scary amount of teeth at her from beneath his hoodie and pushed the gun up towards her face a little more, the streetlights catching the metal barrel, making it glow dully. "What the fuck you lookin' at," he demanded, "I said your money, bitch. Now!"

Next to her Cullen had already drawn himself up to his full height, his arms bunching at his sides as he started shifting - very slightly - in the way he was standing.

"No Cullen," she whispered, pulling the strap of her bag from over her shoulder, "he's got a weapon." That was rule number one they'd learned from the class her old office had held after Jenni/Jeri had gotten out of the hospital; your purse is not worth your life. Hand it over.

"And I have little tolerance for fools," the commander at her side said flatly, if not to her, "and none for men who would use weapons against unarmed citizens. I will give you this one chance; leave now."

"No," Cora croaked when their mugger snarled and shifted his thumb over the hammer, "please - here - take it." She tossed her purse to the stranger's feet - desperate for the man to see that she was following rule number one - her free hand latching onto Cullen's arm as the stranger crouched to hook meaty fingers in the strap-

-and Cullen lunged; Cora's screech doing nothing to hide the sound of a gunshot and the dissent twang of a bullet hitting the nearby light pole. Golden eyes gave her only the briefest glance as bare hands clamped down on a thick, dirty wrist, twisting the arm until the gun clattered to the pavement. Pivoting slightly Cullen cocked his arm and slammed his elbow into the junkie's throat before twisting to bring a knee up into the man's stomach. Cora ducked beneath flying limbs and kicked at the gun with the side of her foot, sending it sliding away before coming to a stop against against a the wall further down the sidewalk.

But their assailant was clearly hopped up on something, because he kept swinging - massive arms thrashing back and forth and bringing those ham hock fists in contact with Cullen's torso too often. Low grunts answered the dull smacking sounds of the punches being thrown, but Cullen kept moving - even when his head snapped back as dirty knuckles crashed into his cheek twice in a row. The blonde man instantly wrapped a hand around the throat in front of him, thumb jammed into the man's windpipe, and all the time bashing his fist into the junkie's side over and over like was hell-bent on breaking into his ribcage. She thought she heard something crack over the sounds of the mugger's choking, but neither man seemed to notice and kept at each other like one of them had to die for the fight to end.

Thinking quickly Cora scrabbled to the ground and clutched at her purse, immediately rolling away from the frenzy of battling testosterone and thrust her hand in, where it closed around a smooth plastic and metal canister. At least she wasn't a complete loss. Thank God for Dee's worrying...

"Get down!" She shrieked and the commander obediently spun away - just as he did in battle in the game - while Cora unloaded her own can of pepper spray into the asshole's eyes, flinching but not backing down in her efforts to blind said asshole, even as he started screaming and staggering while still swinging away blindly.

Until his fist caught the side of her head and the world went momentarily black, ringing loudly around her before breaking out into a terrifying but somewhat familiar roar. When she opened her eyes she saw that she was laying on the pavement; a pair of dirty sneakers dancing with a pair of leather boots not more than a few feet away. Impact sounds and grunting came from above the boots and Cora groaned, rolling onto her belly and trying to muster enough coordination to push herself up off of the sidewalk.

A siren bleated a short ways off behind her as the area was lit up by headlights, and the sneakers gave a desperate scuttle before sprinting down the street in the opposite direction; the boots following a few paces and then stopping abruptly. For a second they shuffled beneath the jeans attached to them, almost dancing between continuing after the sneakers or turning back, before a muffled word Cora couldn't quite make out had them dashing towards her and dropping denim-covered knees in front of her face.

"Inquisitor?" It was Cullen, sounding authoritative, business-like, and thoroughly _pissed_. "Inquisitor - are you hurt?"

There were shouts behind her then, and the black boots and pants of police were racing passed the two on the ground; one stopping for just a second beside them. "Is she alright?"

"I'm fine," Cora muttered, pushing herself up onto her hands and knees. "He dropped his gun," she said, pointing in the general direction of the weapon. And then the cop took off after his partner, ordering the two to stay were they were until help came.

Steely - though slightly unfocused - eyes lifted to the commander the moment they were gone. "You're an idiot," Cora growled, shaking off Cullen's hand as he tried to help her up. Part of her was furious at him, but another part of her didn't want him to notice how badly she was shaking as she pushed herself to her feet. "He could have killed you - God, Cullen!" Her eyes were on his shirt; a tear in the fabric revealing a long bloody slash against his ribs, clearly visible even in the poor light. "He shot you!"

"No, he scratched me," Cullen corrected, taking her face into his heads and turning her head gently so he could peer at her temple. The knuckles on his punching hand were a scraped and bloodied mess and his cheek and eye were already swelling up from the beating he had taken.

"Yeah, with a bullet!"

"I thought it was called a gun," the commander murmured, like he was only half listening to her. "You need a healer-" his fingertips were at her temple and she hissed out an obscenity that should have made her blush personally.

"What about you?" She asked, tugging at the hem of his shirt, which he pushed back down and shooed her hands off.

"I've seen worse," he said, "I've _taken_ worse."

"Right." Cora barked. "Of course you have. That makes everything all better, doesn't it."

Cullen scowled. "I'm a soldier. That doesn't change just because I'm here. You can't ask me to stand by and do nothing when I have the ability to stop it."

"Soldier, huh?" Cora hissed, pushing his hands from her face. "Aren't soldiers supposed to follow orders? Because if that's true, you disobeyed your superior. You're so confident I'm the Inquisitor? Then you should have listened to me. I told you not to go after him."

Cullen glared at her furiously. "He was _robbing_ you!"

"And there is nothing in that purse that I could not have replaced if he had taken it! But you I can't replace!" She gestured wildly to her bag lying on the ground, trying to ignore the way the world sort of tilted around her. "Don't you get it? Don't you get that I could deal with losing all of it _except for you!?_ " The words stuck in her throat then, and she watched his eyes lock on hers; certain that her own gazed was as bugged out as his.

Because she had meant it. She could deal with losing anything.

Except Cullen.

 _Shit. Shit-fuck-damn-_

"Forgive me," Cullen murmured, instantly looking like he'd been busted doing something terrible, "I didn't realize-"

"What, that you weren't wearing armor?" She demanded, trying to hold onto her anger, even though it was quickly giving way to despair. "That you didn't have a weapon? And I told you that gun was a weapon - you should have listened to me! You have no idea what a gun can do! If he had aimed right you'd be dead right now, Cullen. _Dead_."

But that wasn't the only thing that bothered her.

She was going to lose him anyway, when she sent him back to Thedas. She was going to have to say goodbye. And when she did it was going to hurt like hell. Like when her mom died when she was a kid. Like the first time her dad told her that he was going to marry a woman who wasn't her mom.

She was going to lose Cullen, and end up alone. Again.

Tears burned her eyes and she bit hard on the inside of her cheek, punishing herself for getting emotional in front of him. She had known that sooner or later it was going to happen. It was was she was _trying_ to do, for Christ's sake!

Cullen must have noticed because his face instantly mirrored her own misery, and he was reaching a hand out towards her face like he did when he needed reassurance as much as he needed to give it. "Maker, Cora-"

"Don't." She said, backing away and hugging herself tightly. "Just don't. I'm not going to come unraveled like some little girl. Got it?"

Slowly Cullen nodded. "Alright." He murmured, his hand drifting down absently as though he meant to rest it on the hilt of his sword; fingers flexing at empty air before he settled on crossing the arm behind his back.

She'd been a stupid, blind romantic this whole time, doing a damned good job of ignoring what sending Cullen home meant. And when she did it he was going to rip out her heart and take it with him. He probably hadn't realized that, but she was betting that he knew now.

Cora focused her eyes on the cop making his way back to them, and mustered up her best 'I-don't-give-a-fuck' expression; the one she reserved for her father's latest flavor-of-the-month when the woman decided bashing Cora to her father was a great new game that no other step-troll had ever tried to play with her before.

Cora blinked back her tears and swallowed everything but the irritation she felt with herself. Because the last person to see her cry had been her mom; and Cora damn well wasn't going to let that change now.

Not for anyone.

XXXX


	6. Add a Lemon and Stir

**A CULLENITE'S GUIDE: HOW TO BE INQUISITOR**

 **STEP SIX: ADD A LEMON AND STIR**

She sat stiffly in the extra chair beside the exam table; the ugly fabric covered foam seat doing next to nothing in the way of keeping her ass from falling asleep. And the icepack she was obligated to press to her head had started to hurt more than the lump beneath it, but she followed the rules anyway and waited for the nurse to finish.

She - and then Cullen once he had picked up on her lead - had tried to refuse medical attention at first. But no matter how he tried to play it down, Cullen was technically a 'gunshot' victim, and the rules were clear according to the police; anyone injured by a bullet had to be seen - at least so the injury could be documented as evidence in the mugger's trial. So when a very confused and more than slightly concerned Cullen had been ushered into the ambulance, Cora had followed - announcing that she was having trouble seeing straight and keeping her balance. Neither claim was completely inaccurate, if she decided to drop the tough-chick-act.

Okay, so her head was a pulsating ball of pain, and the world seemed to tip around her slightly when she moved too quickly. She couldn't even bother to stay angry at Cullen anymore. It took too much effort, and she was having enough trouble with just not falling on her face. So... maybe it wouldn't hurt to get checked out with Cullen after all.

When they had reached the hospital and been ushered into a room with a dozen or so empty beds - except for the one in the back corner with closed curtains hiding a loud snorer - Cora was relieved to learn that Cullen had been right in his self-assessment. He'd only been grazed, and a few butterfly stitches were all it had taken to fix up the worse of it, with not so much as a cracked bone in spite of the purple and green splotches discoloring his face and torso.

Cora was not so fortunate. The fist to her head had only given her a bruise; but it had been the concrete she hadn't realized she had bounced off of when she fell that had probably given her a minor concussion. The icepack and painkillers had been doled out, along with instructions for Cullen to watch her for signs of impaired speech or worsening cognitive abilities, _blah, blah, blah._ She had sat and enjoyed the effects of the pill she had swallowed as the doctor had given his directions to one very attentive commander. But none of this worried Cora. Cullen was fine and she would be too.

She hadn't even worried when she'd been backed into coming up with more lies. To the doctor who had first diagnosed their injuries, to the cops; to people who could come down on her hard for it if they found out. Because what else could she do, right? Telling any of them the truth would have landed them both in a psych ward. _Well officer, he doesn't have any identification because he just popped out of my video game about a week ago. But don't worry, we're sending him back. No reason to call INS or anything._

So they'd given Cullen's full name for the report when the officer hadn't acted like anything was weird about it his looks or voice. Not everyone was a gamer, after all. And Cora had kept the story as close to the truth as she could; Cullen was her friend who had come from London to stay with her - to account for the accent - and had forgotten his ID back at the apartment when she had told him she was taking him out for a real night on the town. Then it had been pizza and a walk along the lakefront. Thankfully the officer had arrived at the hospital after them - long enough for Cora to feed Cullen a birthdate to use, his arrival date, and the story that he didn't have private insurance yet, being so new to the country. There had been no time to explain what insurance was - just that he would be asked about it, and this was how he should respond. The only part he had stumbled over was the arrival date and Cora had corrected him, easily laughing it off as jet lag as she did.

She'd also dealt with being gently chewed out by the cop after that for making such a dumb mistake as to open them both up to getting mugged, and had promised to do better in the future; brushing off Cullen's attempts at defending her to the officer.

Finally the nice man with the badge - who Cora had perjured herself to so effortlessly - left to turn in his report, promising to be in touch for the line-up when and if they caught the mugger. And then the two scrappers were alone - except for the nurse who had just finished with Cullen's dressings.

She knew that she should have been a nervous wreck at the lies she was telling to people you were _never_ supposed to lie to, but she just could't bring herself to care anymore. She probably had the painkiller to thank for that. Or the concussion. Or both. She wasn't out of her mind; she just couldn't bring herself to worry about… anything. Even conjured images of the step-troll failed to ping her bitch-meter. Nope. Life was good.

Instead she watched as the soldier pulled his shirt back on with only a slight show of stiffness, covering the large white bandage and livid-looking bruises at his ribs and stomach; and at that her stomach finally did an anxious little flip at what they had come through, and what could have happened. Not full-blown fear; just a little twinge of _'well shit.'_ He had been shot at. That was some serious shit. She realized that she must have spoken - and not just thought - the obscenity that had come to mind when Cullen looked up at her.

"I assure you, it looks much worse than it is," he said, giving her a very small smirk that tugged at the purpled cheekbone above his lip. She'd never seen him bruised up before, she realized.

Cora tore her eyes from the blonde and turned to the nurse. "Can we go?" She asked, trying not to sound ungrateful, and adding for good measure - "I just want to get home and put this whole night behind us."

The nurse nodded absently, picking up his clipboard without actually looking at her, "Sure thing - I'm done here. Just let me get the doctor to sign off, and you're both clear to leave."

The busy man was then out the door with their charts in hand, and Cora let her hand holding the icepack drop to her lap, her fingers lifting up to tap at the numb section of her scalp like a child playing with an anesthetized part of their own body.

"I'm relieved it's not more serious," the commander admitted, reaching over from his seat on the bed to catch up her wrist and end her curious prodding, while his other hand gently parted her hair to look at the effected area. "Try not to push yourself too much. These injuries are not without lingering dangers."

"I know," she said quietly, deciding to let him inspect her knot and feeling her stomach warm and melt when his fingers trailed gently over her scalp. It felt... nice. She wasn't a touchy-feely person in the least; even in her relationship with Dee, where they were anything but those squealing, constantly hugging besties that television often depicted girls to be. They traded humor and snark, and would have one another's back in an instant, but don't ask for a hug. She would throw up her defenses if Dee - or anyone - tried to touch her like this. But with Cullen...

With Cullen it was fine. It was better than fine. And she didn't even stop to consider that she wasn't scared at where her thoughts were going, like she had been. Her mind was a warm and soft place and she just wanted to curl up in it and be happy.

So of course it was fine when his fingers slid from her scalp through her hair and down to her cheekbone. It was fine when his hand cupped her face and that look returned to his eyes; the one that told her everything without a word being spoken.

"Forgive me for worrying you," he said softly, and she marveled at the way he could liquify her insides with just his voice. "It was reckless of me to act as I did. You were right; I didn't know what that weapon was, or what it was capable of. My only thought was of you and-"

"It's alright," she said quietly, and placed a hand over his, holding his palm to her face and breathing in the smell of the skin at her cheek. "I understand. You would have done the same thing in Thedas. I shouldn't have expected you to be anything but who you are."

"And you were never defenseless in Thedas as I recall," Cullen smirked, "I should have known you would not be so here. Whatever that liquid you covered him with was, it blinded the fool. As he tried to escape he ran straight into the building beside us. Twice."

"Ha." Cora's low harrumph was less amused and more resentful, even through her little bubble of contentment. "I hope he broke his nose."

"No, but I believe I did." Cullen admitted a bit smugly, and she gave him a genuine, warm smile, ready to thank him for trying to be her knight in shining armor in spite of it all, but found herself cut short when the door opened again; Cullen's hand retreating from her face instantly as the nurse entered, shuffling papers and a small prescription bottle in his hands.

"Alrighty! Ms. Dempkowski," he announced absently though very cheerfully, "Mr. Rutherford, you're both free to go. Here are your discharge papers, and you get a painkiller, too, Mr. Rutherford. Do you have someone who can come get you? Remember, there's no driving or operating heavy machinery for you for the next twenty-four hours." The nurse's eyes were on Cora and she nodded obediently, standing to accept the papers and Cullen's prescription.

"I'll be calling a cab," she said, "no more walking for us today." The nurse chuckled.

"I don't blame you. I'll have the front desk call the cab for you. It should be out front when you get there. Unless you have any question, I think we're done!"

Cora murmured a denial and then the man in scrubs was gone. Cora dropped the bottle and papers into her purse and turned to see if Cullen was ready-

-and was unexpectedly caught up between sinewy arms and black cotton as the softest lips she'd ever tasted claimed her mouth.

Her heart stuttered and then hammered wildly behind her ribs when he took hold of her lower lip between his and pulled it gently into his mouth, and she didn't even try to think. She just kissed him back, melting into him as she did.

Her hands lifted to his biceps; the way he held her prevented her from wrapping her arms around his neck like she wanted. He plucked at her lips with his mouth for a moment, before reclaiming her like he had, giving her slow, gentle pulls that deepened until she felt like he might be trying to drink her up. She opened her mouth to get a better angle on that amazing mouth attached to hers and his tongue swept inside, caressing hers before retreating so that he could plunge back into her. Over and over he came at her, always gentle, but hungrier with each reconnection.

Oh God, _oh God_ , he really _did_ kiss like she had dreamed.

When his lips finally pulled away she whimpered at their loss until his forehead pressed carefully to hers. "It _is_ you," he breathed. "There is no part of me that can deny it any longer. How is it possible that the one I know better than my own heart is here, in a world where I have never been?"

"I don't know." Cora admitted, losing her grip on the last shred of logic that had been screaming its denial of this in her brain. How was it she was falling for a man she had never met in person before several days ago?

"This shouldn't be possible," he murmured; her every nerve ending tingling when he set his gaze on hers. "I should be terrified that I'm going mad. But, being with you... I fear the loss of you more than I do madness."

"Maybe it's me that should be afraid," she replied, trying to find the resolve she had relied on before to hold him at a bit of a distance - not much, but enough - but her brain just couldn't wrap around that fear. There was only this bliss and the promise of something _more_. "I'm going to send you back to Thedas, and when I do I'll never be able to hold you like this again. You'll have my projection but all I'll have are the images of you…"

His eyes closed as he nuzzled against her nose; and Cora felt her chest tighten, knowing how the action appeared from a third-person view but finding it even more beautiful now that she experienced it first person. "There must be something... Maker, I can't..." And there was that twinge of her earlier dread, not as strong as before, but still there; that emptiness she could already feel creeping into her, and would slam home full-force when he left.

She would send him back anyway. Because she was the Inquisitor, and now that she knew Thedas was real, she knew how badly it needed this man. Sure he was far from perfect, and had made some pretty hefty mistakes in his past, but she was no saint either, and he was trying to do better - to be better - because he honestly cared. There were too few characters - _people_ \- in Thedas like him. Plus he wanted to go home. He had told her as much more than once. And she would make that happen if it crushed her.

But he wasn't going anywhere at the moment. And she was really, really good for making bad decisions…

"I don't have a desk in my apartment," she nearly croaked, "but there is a bed." His eyes locked on hers and she saw just how blown-out his pupils were; he was halfway gone to rational thought already. That made two of them. "I could even find a bottle to break if-"

His lips devoured hers again, desperately this time, and she lost herself in that kiss; the part of her subconsciousness which had been warning her against getting too attached now fully on board with what they were planning. And while it probably was the concussion's influence, it didn't matter to her in the least.

He was going to break her heart, and right now she was just fine with that.

XXXX

Her apartment was dark; she had forgotten to leave on a lamp on their way out. But they didn't need the light; their eyes were barely open anyway. And the second the door closed behind them Cullen was on her again with hands and lips and his body pressed to her; hunched over her possessively like he was trying to act as lover and human shield all at once. She reached for and fumbled with the locks several times before she finally succeeded in bolting the front door. And then she was walking backwards through the apartment with Cullen's lips on hers as he half followed and half guided her around furniture and corners until they were in her bedroom and he was kicking the door closed behind them.

She had thought to just fall into bed and pull him down with her, and instead found herself lowered carefully to the mattress; the pillows still smelling faintly like him from the nights he had already slept here. Cullen's weight came next, pinning her to the softness beneath her back and she sighed into his lips, feeling his hands slide along her sides and his hips roll into hers.

Those clips of the desk scene hadn't even touched on the reality of this experience, and her mind melted down into nothing more than a collection of heightened senses. His breath was hot and broken on her neck when Cora pulled away from his kiss to tug at the hem of his shirt, wanting access to the skin beneath, and he retreated with a jerk; the weak moonlight streaming through her window barely outlining the annoyed snarl that crossed his perfect lips as he reached down to pull the fabric from his waist, stripping it expertly over his head with one arm and losing it to the darkness as he returned to her mouth and her body.

But there were still barriers between them and she pushed a palm into his chest, holding him back. For a moment his eyes were wide and slightly dazed, like he couldn't understand what was happening, until she pushed herself upright and reached down for her own shirt. The visible worry left his face then, and Cullen backed off enough to watch as she pulled the t-shirt over her head with both arms before reaching back to unfasten her bra. That part of her brain that usually fought to keep her decency was silent now, even when her breasts spilled out of the fabric as she tossed it away, and it never even occurred to her to wonder why.

Then the living embodiment of sexual perfection that was kneeling before her offered the smallest smile of wonderment. "You are," he breathed, "exactly as I remember you." Cora reached up to remove the tie that held her hair up in its ruined knot and shook the blonde strands free so that they cascaded down over her shoulders.

"So you've said," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck, not so much pulling him back to her as silently inviting him to climb on top of her again - which he did. His hands also returned, and were hard and rough on her skin, but gentle in every way that counted.

With fumbling fingers, and a fair amount of squirming between his knees, she managed to remove her pants before then moving on to the buttons of his jeans, and was rewarded with a throaty chuckle from above as Cullen. "At least it's not laces," she offered awkwardly.

"You are terrible with laces," he murmured breathily, barely paying attention to her words as his fingers dipped beneath the elastic waistline of her panties and her skin fluttered under the feather-soft touch there. "You generally leave this part to me."

"I like buttons better," she whispered as he kicked away the last of his clothing. She couldn't see his nudity from where she lay, but the feel of his bare legs and hips rubbing against hers, and the rough scrape of his fingers as he slid his hands - and her underwear - down her thighs, had her nerve endings practically vibrating her to pieces.

"Yes," his voice was barely a breath, "I know." Her panties slipped from her ankles and Cullen's weight returned to press her into the mattress again. Where there had just seconds ago been the hard press of denim, now she could feel coarse hair and his erection as it nestled between her thighs, though not in the way that really counted. But she didn't try to fix that - yet. "You're trembling." His whispered words tickled her lips with the barely-there contact of his own.

And she returned the torment. "Maybe it's you?"

The tip of his nose brushed hers once, twice, and then his lower lip touched the seam of her own lips briefly. "Perhaps..." Again his mouth teased hers with promises of softness and heat and passion before she finally broke and lifted her head enough to seal them together, earning a slightly amused hum of pleasure from the man above her.

Then his lips began to work their way down her jaw and throat to her collar bone and Cora burrowed her fingers into his thick, soft hair, feeling his tresses snap free of the product he had applied that morning. Her fingernails slid against his scalp, and she felt his teeth pluck at her skin in response before soft lips replaced them, sending an electric current through her limbs and straight to her already slick center. Clearly he already knew how to drive her out of her mind, and Cora moaned, shifting her thighs apart as he lifted her knee so that he could settle himself against the one place that was now aching for him like nothing else. His hand slid between their bodies and she felt him take hold of himself, pressing his satiny tip to her entrance gently and very nearly bringing her to sob outright in her bliss.

"Oh God, if this is a dream please don't let me wake up." He was there - _right there_ \- and she lifted her hips to pressed against him even more, though it still wasn't enough to get him where she needed him to be. It drove her out of her mind, but she couldn't help but relish every second of the torture.

"If this is a dream," he whispered against her lips in that soft voice that said more about how he felt than his words; his thumb softly stroking her bud as he held himself in place and sent her really and honestly quaking from head to toe, "then we are in the Fade together."

And then he was sliding into her, stretching her, filling her, burning away the aching emptiness and replacing it with the sharp sensation of taking in so much so quickly. He exhaled something jagged and guttural that could have been a reaction to pain or pleasure; his voice causing her to miss it when the sound that had been locked away in her throat finally broke free. Then his hands were cupping her face, holding her still so that she had to lock eyes with his, and in the pale moonlight which bled through her bedroom sheers she saw worry crease his face, though it didn't erase the want in his eyes that was practically scalding her with its intensity.

"Cora?" He croaked as his fingers ghosted over the lump on her head before dropping down to gently wipe at the corner of her eye, and she thought her skin felt damp when the pad of his finger passed over it. "Maker, have I-"

Dumbly she shook her head. "No. It's perfect," she groaned, clutching at his back and digging her fingers into his shoulder blades. "God - _Maker_ \- Cullen, _you're_ perfect."

And all of the worry in his eyes vanished behind the tidal wave of desire he had barely held back as his mouth enveloped hers again, and she lifted her hips in response to his slow thrust, digging fingernails into his skin and earning a growl from the man above her. Oh yes, he had _liked_ that. She repeated the flexing of her fingers, this time dragging her nails down his back firmly though not viciously, and his hips surged in response; driving himself deeper into her than he had been and causing her to whimper through her nose as he continued to kiss her thoroughly. With her hands she gripped tightly at the perfect mounds of his rear and pulled him further into her; his tongue sweeping hers into his mouth with a throaty moan from him as he kissed her greedily.

It was slow, their lovemaking, but there was nothing hesitant about it. Her nails scored his back, his shoulders and arms - anywhere she could latch onto him and pull, while his teeth traveled up her throat and across her chest, applying just the perfect amount of pressure with every nip - enough to sting her skin, but never to leave a mark. And then his mouth would find hers, or she would seek his out, and they would all but forget to breathe. Cora couldn't remember having ever been kissed or touched like this - like he was trying to get beyond her body to make love to her _soul_. Like he wanted nothing more than to fuse them together like this for eternity - and she would have been just fine with that.

With every thrust of his hips, and rise of hers, he brought about a pleasure so intense within her it was very nearly painful, impaling her on his length over and over. He knew how to claim her, how to fill her to capacity and cause her to mewl with every connection, clutching at him - afraid he might think she wanted him to stop. Which she didn't. Ever. He was here, inside of her, hot and hard and slick and so perfectly textured that her inner walls sang with the sensation of his movements.

Her first orgasm hit her with all of the subtly of a freight train and she cried out from the bottom of her throat into the darkness, with Cullen murmuring encouragements that were lost to her as she spasmed around him and under him; her back arched from the bed, pinning her breasts against his chest tightly. Her fists pulled almost cruelly at his hair though she didn't even know it - not until her insides finally stopped constricting around his shaft and she came down from the stars to feel the tension in her arms, and how her fingers had tangled into his curls. But if her grip on him hurt he showed no sign of it; his eyes still ablaze and utterly fixated on her.

Then, like a balloon with a leak, Cora's body rapidly slacked and sagged, boneless, back to the mattress. And as she relaxed Cullen's mouth dipped to claim her lips in another of his deep kisses, allowing her to come back down from her euphoria; his hips barely moving, but enough that she could feel him pulsing within her; hard as steel and still so _ready_.

She didn't make him wait long, and it only took the slightest push on his shoulder to have him slide off of her, and another to get him onto his back, his face so beautifully contorted with a mixture of awe and desire she couldn't possibly believe she deserved this. Deserved _him_.

Her thighs straddled Cullen's hips and she placed her palm against the hard panels of his stomach, holding herself above him until she had positioned him against her opening before at last seating herself on him and engulfing him in one quick, exquisite motion. Beneath her Cullen's head tipped back and he rasped out an appellation to the Maker; his hands taking hold of her thighs and his body rising up to meet her descent with a roll that had his stomach muscles flexing, breathing in short gasps that mixed into is continued litany.

Her insides coiled around him tightly - feeling impossibly full of him - and she knew that at any moment she would snap and fly off into space, until solid heat enveloped her and Cora was crushed against a perfectly sculpted body by strong arms. Cullen held her to him - to the world - thrusting into her body rhythmically and encouraging her to ride him with hips and arms and words partially whispered, ragged and desperate, in her ear.

And she did. Oh God she rode him; holding to him and the awareness that _he_ was on the other end of this exquisite pleasure. He was thick and hot inside her, leaving her aching with every withdrawal and whimpering with every plunge. Her lips crashed against his as she fought for bottomless kisses in between her panting cries and his attempts to breathe fresh air. He obliged, covering her mouth with his and filling her with hungry laps and the reverberations of his voice.

Hard fingers slid down to clutch at her rear tightly, and then he was driving her; the efforts of her thighs brought to near uselessness as he lifted and guided her into picking up the pace. He was getting close; she could feel him curl in on her, his heart hammering inside of his chest.

She knew what to do then; knew what would send him over the edge. Freeing a hand of its grip on him, Cora slid it between their bodies, framing her sex with her first and third fingers while circling her apex with her middle digit. The effect was instant - pleasure from both outside and in had her constricting, flexing, gripping at his heat harder and Cullen grunted long and broken against her cheek, snaking one arm up around her shoulders and pinning her mercilessly to his body.

Her name slipped from his lips, longing, pleading, and then his mouth claimed hers and she was rocketing into her second climax; electric jolts of pleasure shooting down her legs and into her belly, while vaguely aware of his slow, erratic surging within her that signaled his own near-violent undoing. Cora rode his orgasm for all it was worth, pulling from him one less abyssal kiss that he could barely participate in actively, but held to with what awareness he had remaining.

And then it was Cullen's turn to sag limply against her; his arms loosening though not releasing her entirely. One hand slid down to her lower back and he pressed their lower bodies flush together again; seemingly unwilling to break the contact they shared.

Tender fingers reached up to his head as Cora idly tried to tame his curls; wild now and unwilling to bend to her efforts. Her lips traced his jawline as she petted him and he sighed, nuzzling into her shoulder.

"We would probably be more comfortable if you let me go so we could lay down," she suggested when it seemed like he might never let them move from their last sexual position, but Cullen just shook his head.

"I could hold you like this forever," he breathed and any arguments she had, or wishes for her pillows, died with that admission.

So Cora laid her head against his shoulder and contented herself with breathing in the musk of his skin, his hair, and their lovemaking.

The last thing that she was actively aware of was a shift in the way she sat atop him, and of a blanket being dragged over her back and shoulders. And then Cora slipped completely from partial awareness and into a dreamless sleep.


	7. Suffer Through Obligatory Angst

STEP SEVEN: SUFFER THROUGH OBLIGATORY ANGST

The city was just starting to wake up when Cora stepped out through the revolving door of her building and onto the sidewalk. Pedestrians hadn't yet started clogging the sidewalks, but taxis and cars were already moving people towards the central high-rises and commercial districts - early risers who didn't need to wait for the sun to rise to start their days. Hailing a cab, Cora climbed in and gave the driver the address for Dee's building, casting an almost frantic look back at her building as the driver pulled away. No broad figure burst from the glass entryway after her.

For the second time in fifteen minutes, she pressed her forehead into her palms, trying not to moan out loud in her misery.

 _What had she done?_

Oh she knew exactly what she had done. She'd caved in. She'd all but guaranteed that when Cullen went back she was going to lose her shit in the most colossal way. Sure, she'd known it would suck to see him go before, but now she was guaranteed to be opened up and gutted when he popped back through her television. Another muscle constriction started to press against her airways and Cora eased it back, refusing to allow herself the luxury of crying.

 _You did this to yourself. God, stupid, why did you have to do this?_

She knew why she did it. She knew exactly why. She'd fallen for him, and not in the same way that she'd ogled over him while he was still safely coded into the game. This wasn't a fan girl swoon anymore. This was the real deal. The fact that her heart felt like a sucking whirlpool in her chest right now told her as much.

She'd gone ahead and let herself fall in love with Cullen Rutherford.

Her eyes started to burn again and she ducked lower in the bench behind the driver, trying so hard to keep them in check. Waking up next to Cullen had been the closest thing to rapture she had probably ever known, until she realized that she was waking up next to someone she couldn't keep.

For a heartbeat, she had considered actually asking him to stay. The temptation to wake him up and ask him to not go back had been so great that her hand had actually found its way to his chest before she had caught herself.

And she had remembered that, for better or for worse, Cullen had a life in Thedas. He had siblings he loved dearly, and tried to write to more often. He had friends whom he depended on, and who depended on him. He had responsibilities - a lot of them. These were all things that the man she had fallen for would never be able to give up. And even if he did agree, in the end what would he actually be agreeing to, beyond staying with her? Living in a world where he would have to lie about who he was every day for the rest of his life? Wondering if his family had survived Corypheus' attack, or if his men had fallen without his leadership? They'd never get those answers; the game would never be able to show them a world where Cullen wasn't there. She'd be condemning him to purgatory, just so she could keep him.

Cora's shoulders hunched in tighter; the clenching in her throat becoming more and more insistent, turning the worsening throbbing in her head into a non-issue as far as misery went. When the cab finally pulled up to Dee's building, Cora offered the driver a few extra bucks to sit there for another couple of minutes while she worked on getting a grip. Her face felt like it was on fire and her eyes stung like hell, but she hadn't actually cried. Small victories.

Pulling herself out of the car finally, she worked up the nerve to ring the buzzer next to the entry to Dee's building. A minute passed before a sleepy voice muttered something almost incoherent into the speaker.

"Dee?" Her voice cracked and Cora flinched at the sound of it. "It's me. Can I come in?"

There was silence for a second and then the door clicked and buzzed, allowing Cora to enter the building and make her way upstairs to her friend's apartment. To her embarrassment the door was already open, and a frumpy little thing with unbrushed hair wearing only a long t-shirt stared at her.

"Tell me you didn't." She said, slightly accusingly as she stepped aside to let Cora enter her home, but more worried than anything. "Girl, tell me you didn't do what I think you did." Cora's eyes started to burn again and Dee sighed, closing the door behind them.

"Shit." She muttered. "Cora, what were you thinking? You know he doesn't belong here. How could you fall for-"

"It doesn't matter," Cora barked. The last thing in the world she needed right now was to get fucking chewed out over this. When her irritation piqued, though, she realized maybe it wasn't the last thing she needed. Maybe getting into a fight was exactly what the doctor ordered. "Nothing's changed. He's still going back."

Dee scowled. "Does he know this?"

"You heard him yourself," Cora muttered, kicking off her shoes and showing herself across the living room to Dee's home office. "He wants to go home."

"Still?"

"I think so," Cora admitted. "I didn't ask him again. He was still asleep when I left."

"Sneaking out on him? Way to show some spine." Her friend mumbled and Cora's temper kicked into overdrive.

"Fuck you, Dee!" She hissed angrily. Who did her friend think she was, judging her? She'd never been in love once in her life. Cora was doubtful the little ball of piss and vinegar even knew what it meant. "I'm doing what I gotta do. Just like always. Now I'm going to go record some lines. You can either help me or leave me with your computer and I'll do it my damned self."

They'd fought before, of course. Like siblings. Sometimes those fights stretched on for days, with neither speaking directly to the other beyond quick messages sent over instant messenger about their social media channel. So Dee's reaction was fairly predicable.

"Go work on your lines. I don't care," Dee huffed, waving an angry hand towards her office. "But I've been up all night working on _your_ shit, and just went to bed an hour ago. So if you wake me up again you can get the fuck out!" Dark hair fanned out dramatically as her friend stomped into her bedroom and slammed the door, leaving Cora to power up the computer and sit down at the desk, picking up the script and flipping to a scene that was properly agitated.

Yeah, the screaming fight with her advisors in Trespasser seemed like a good place to start. Pulling the mic towards her, Cora hit the record button and started ranting.

XXXX

A little over an an hour later the door to the office opened and Dee padded in, holding her cell phone up and staring at Cora incredulously; Cora's face on the screen grinned obnoxiously with an empty shot glass pressed to her cheek. It had been taken one night they had gone bar hopping with a couple of friends, and Dee had always gotten a good chuckle out of it - even making it Cora's ID picture on her cell. And now her cell was calling Dee.

 _Shit_.

"I left my phone for him and a note on how to use it." Cora whispered, and Dee rolled her eyes.

"Jesus..." she muttered, and tapped the screen. "Hey Cullen... Yeah, it's me. ... Yeah, she's at my computer right now. ... I don't know, laying down some lines I think. _Recording_. ... No, not to me. ... Directions here?" Dee's eyes shot to Cora who waved both hands at her while shaking her head emphatically and Dee returned to the conversation on her phone. "... I don't think that's - _what?_ " Angry dark eyes pierced the blonde woman then, and Cora bristled. What had he said to her? "When?" Dee demanded into the phone, pausing for a longer period of time as she listened; growing angrier with every second. " _Jesucristo_... Yeah... Yeah, I will. Give me a few minutes, alright?"

The phone dropped to her friend's side and Dee glared at her. "Mugged? What the ever loving fuck, Cora?! You get mugged and decide not to tell me?!"

 _Oh. That._ "We're both fine," Cora argued, "I didn't want to worry you."

"You've got a _concussion_." Dee said - enunciating each syllable of the last word like she wouldn't recognize it. "He was waking up every two hours to check on you, like the doctor told him. And you just left him there? You're a piece of work, you know that?"

Dee stomped out of the office and back into her room, keys rattling and dresser drawers banging opened and closed.

Cora stood from the desk, though never actually dared to leave the room. "Where are you going?"

"You need to eat, he said," Dee barked. "Cullen said the doctors need you to make sure you can hold down food. And since he was shot, I'm guessing he should eat too. I'm going to go pick him up and then grab some breakfast for everyone. Get your act together while I'm gone. Get me?"

Her friend continued to mutter angrily to herself as she left - this time in Spanish - slamming the door as she exited and leaving Cora to sink into the office chair again. Dee was partially right. She couldn't just sit here hiding from him forever. Sooner or later she'd have to actually speak to him.

Taking into account the fact that Dee was also stopping for food, Cora figured she had no less than twenty five minutes until the two came back. She could use this time to either give herself a good cry, or to put her big girl panties on. Neither would fix her problems, but she couldn't just sit here wallowing.

After a second of debating Cora turned back to the computer and picked the mouse back up.

She'd never seen the Inquisitor cry in the game.

Dee was right - Cora could fucking suck it up.

XXXX

Almost an hour later the front door clicked open and Cora stiffened in her seat, fixing the headphones over both ears firmly and turning up the volume on the audio clips of the dialogue from the game she was listening to. It had been giving her a point of reference for inflections and timing, and also helped her to keep from feeling like she was a nut-job who talked to herself when no one was around.

And now it served an additional purpose of giving her an excuse to ignore the newcomers while she prepared herself for having to face Cullen.

The smell of bacon and coffee hit her nose at the exact moment the skin on her back tightened; she could _feel_ him enter the room, even if she couldn't see him from her current position with her back to the door. And though she had expected it, when the warm hand touched her shoulder she flinched anyway; the fingers lifting away from her immediately.

"Forgive me," he said quietly when she turned and pulled the headphones from her ears, "I didn't mean to startle you." He had that content look in his eyes and Cora felt that grief and guilt creeping over her again. Dee hadn't told him anything; the woman was better to her than she deserved, the blonde realized.

"It's fine." She said, pasting a smile on her face for him and trying to make it reach her eyes. "I couldn't sleep. Headache." She tapped her temple and grimaced at the jolt of pain. "And you looked so comfortable, I didn't want to wake you. I figured I could work on some lines by myself until you woke up."

Cullen blinked at her for a minute, watching her with an unreadable expression, before pulling up the other chair to sit beside her. "Do you need some help?" Cora shook her head, flashing him an even larger grin and worrying that it was even less sincere than the first - it sure felt that way.

"Actually I think that I just finished." She flipped through the script, scanning for blue check marks she'd inked in beside each of the lines she'd saved the final recordings for. "So now we're on to animation."

"In that case," a voice chimed up from behind Cullen's broad shoulders, "I need you both to get out of my way so I can work." Dee pushed the Ferelden from his seat and elbowed him out of the way with a little, wry smirk, handing him a piece of toast with a fried egg on top as she booted him. "Get her out of here. She's hogging up my stuff." Dee looked at Cora with a neutral, almost friendly expression. "There's coffee and breakfast from Jake's out there. Only two cups - you'll have to make due."

Jake's was their favorite place to go for breakfast. It was a twenty-four hour diner that served the best sausage gravy Cora had ever tasted - which she found poured over biscuits in a white styrofoam box sitting on Dee's kitchen counter. Cora grabbed a couple of plates from the dish rack and started serving up breakfast, trying not to act like Cullen's presence at her heals wasn't rattling her. When she turned to get the milk out of the fridge she noticed out of the corner of her eye that he was watching her; his head tipped at that angle that she knew meant he was unsure about something. It was awkward, knowing that she was confusing him, and she started to fill the silence with mindless chatter.

"I didn't make too many changes to the lines that Dee will have to update animations for," she blurted, not knowing what to say to him. "And despite what she says, she's a pro at it. Give her a day to update the animations. Maybe a few hours to replace the vanilla lines with mine. And then a day or two to modulate the vocals to match me." Cora scrunched her nose. "Though really I don't know about that. She could get lucky, or it could be harder than I thought. Anyway, we can probably get you home in maybe another three days." Her voice was bright and she smiled like she meant it, but when she turned to face Cullen she knew her bullshit was being called.

"We don't have to talk-" His hand reached out to her and again she backed away.

"No." She blurted, staring at his hand like it was about to burn her, or bite her, or worse. "No, we're not - I _can't_ do this again. If I do..." she turned her back to him and started to stir her coffee again - anything to keep her hands busy. "You're going back." She said flatly. "That's all there is. Okay?" Her heart was wailing in her chest; if she allowed herself to act on it she'd have been a puddle on the floor, sobbing into her tear-drenched hands.

At her side Cullen stepped closer, not trying to touch her, but not backing down; the expression on his face was confused. Hurt. Desperate for a shred of the hope she knew was pointless. "There must be a way. I thought we-"

And Cora lost it; anger and heartbreak battling it out inside of her. She felt sick, empty; like a balloon that had come untied and was still trying to hold all of its air inside anyway. "Stop, Cullen! Jesus what do you want? Do you want to stay here? Huh? Is that it?! Give up the Inquisition and your family and your life back home? For what - for me?" She slammed her spoon on the countertop angrily.

"I am Cora _Dempkowski_! I was born in Massachusetts - not the Free Marches! I'm an American citizen who's never been outside of my own country - let alone to another world. I don't have a shred of magical ability in me, I've never lead anyone in my entire life, and I certainly was not chosen by some divine being to do anything! It's not providence that I look like your Cora Trevelyan - I designed her to look like me! Just like I'm changing her voice and words now! So stop trying to convince us both that I'm somehow this perfect woman you gave your heart to! I'm not! _I'm nobody!_ You're going home to your perfect woman, and your perfect family and-" Her words almost cracked with her hysterics but she stopped in time; spinning around to the counter again.

Her breath locked in her lungs forcibly for a second while she waited for her voice to even out before trusting herself to finish speaking - not shouting as she had been. She was trying not to look at him, but she could see his right side from the corner of her eye and he was absolutely still; his hand clenched into a bloodless fist.

 _God, what must his face look like? No, don't think about that._

"What we did was a mistake," she almost whispered. "I should never have... lead you on like that. There never was a future for you and I. We both knew that."

And that was that. She'd done it. Her throat closed up and she knew that if she tried to speak or look at him again she was going to crack - and she couldn't do that. God help her, she could't. So Cora did the only thing she could - she bolted from the kitchen without looking back, barely pausing to scoop up her purse and shoes as she left; a dark shadow off to one side telling her that Dee had emerged from her office and was probably staring at her, though Cora didn't look back to find out.

The cool air of the city rushed at her when she threw open the door to Dee's building and Cora was off, running down the sidewalk in her socks without a destination in mind. She just had to be away. At the end of the block she turned right and kept going, making a left at the next intersection before finally running out of oxygen; her head pounding like it was being hammered with a mallet and her vision blacking out. Doubling over in the middle of the sidewalk, Cora sucked in noisy, vocal gasps of air. There were people on the sidewalk with her, staring as they circled wide to avoid her, though she barely even noticed.

Because she'd done it; what she'd yet to have the heart to do in all of her play-throughs of the game so far. Once again this was real life, with no loading from a prior save and pretending this never happened.

No. Only now, when it was completely irreversible, did she finally do the one thing she'd always avoided.

She'd ended her love affair with Cullen.

XXXX

Hours later - after having wandered the city like a zombie - the key turned and clicked in the lock of her apartment door and Cora entered, immediately noticing that someone had been there.

The first noticeable difference was that the living room lamp had been left on, bathing the room in that comfortable golden glow she normally loved. Next was her phone, resting on the coffee table next to her keyboard and mouse. She must have forgotten it with Cullen when she left him with Dee. Dee, who had a spare key to her place because Cora had a nasty habit of losing hers.

Slowly the blonde toured her apartment, taking in the rest of the changes, each with a deeper sense of loss. The familiar set of armor that had been sitting in front of her couch was now missing, and the bed had been stripped to the mattress; the sheets still warm in her tiny dryer.

Cora went back to the living room and picked up her phone, unlocking it out of habit and finding a text message notice waiting for her. It was from Dee. She tapped the message and opened it to find a string of little bubbles - each with a different time stamp. Dee had been trying to reach her for hours - the first message having been sent probably right after she had taken off.

 _'Let me know when you're back and safe.'_

 _'Are you still out?'_

 _'Hey'_

 _'You need to talk to him, girl.'_

 _'You can't leave it like this.'_

But it was the last one that did it, and Cora slid to the floor in front of her couch with the phone clutched in her numbing fingers.

 _'Thank you for completing your part of the task. I will not trouble you further. Cullen.'_

Her chest convulsed and she hiccuped loudly, then again, until she couldn't stop the noises or the spasms in her lungs. Tears burned her eyes, sliding down her cheeks; and her head throbbed like she'd just bashed it on the sidewalk all over again.

Helpless against the onslaught, and without a reason to fight it anymore, Cora drew her knees up to her chest and bawled for the first time in years.


	8. Find It's You Against the World

**A CULLENITE'S GUIDE: HOW TO BE INQUISITOR**

 **STEP EIGHT: FIND IT'S YOU AGAINST THE WORLD**

Cora groaned and rolled over on the couch. Her head was pounding so loudly that it practically had a sound to it now. One hand reached up to press against her hair, trying to hold her brain inside of her skull, when the throbbing fell in time with a loud banging again - and this time she opened her eyes.

No, there really was a sound; someone was knocking at her door.

Standing stiffly, Cora stretched and felt her spine pop in several places. Sunlight was bleeding through a slit in her curtains, and she wondered what time it was. Normally sleeping on the couch was no big deal for her, but last night she had started off on the floor, having just passed out there after her pity-fest. Oh, yeah, she was having herself just a spectacular meltdown.

The knock at her door repeated and she flinched, wishing whoever it was would have a little mercy on her.

"Coming," she murmured, shuffling over to the door and clearing the gunk from her eyes as she did. The briefest hope that maybe it was Cullen flashed through her mind, only to be immediately stamped down. She knew damn well that Cullen wasn't one to beg. And even if there was a chance that it was him beating down her door, she'd just have to turn him away again.

 _Right?_

Peeking through the peephole first, Cora felt her blood turn to ice and solidify almost painfully in her veins. Outside two men were waiting with stern expressions on their faces, and one of them was wearing a police uniform.

And Cora _knew_. She _knew_ that something had gone wrong. "Hello?" She raised her voice out of old habit; hardening her tone so that no one would see just how rattled they had her. Maybe that wasn't the best idea here, but she couldn't bring herself to drop the act.

"Cora Dempkowski?"

"Yes." She called through the door, unwilling to unbolt the locks until she was sure she had a hold of herself. "Who is it?" _Well that was a dumb question._ Clearly she wasn't there yet.

"Chicago police," the taller man wearing a pinstriped shirt and tie announced casually, flipping open a leather folio and flashing a badge at the peephole. "I'm Detective Jeffries. This is Officer Semiti. We need to speak with you about the other night."

 _The mugging. Right._ Cora took a deep breath and pulled her face away from the door, trying not to let her expression show how grateful she was that it wasn't something else. Cullen wasn't the type to react badly to a break-up, she thought, but then again she wasn't the type to just fall to pieces over a man she had just met face to face. _Here's to new adventures in self-discovery, right?_ With fingers a lot steadier than she would have guessed, Cora flipped the knobs and catches on her door, opening it to peer out at the men waiting for her.

"They said someone would be in contact about it," she admitted by way of a greeting. "I was thinking it would take longer to get somewhere, though. I'm sorry, do you want to come in?" She tried to smile as she stepped aside to hold the door a little wider, and the detective dismissed her hospitality with a tip of his head.

"Actually we were hoping that you and Mr. Rutherford would be willing to come down to the station and talk."

Cora nodded. "Of course. Cullen isn't here, but I can come with you. Just let me grab my purse."

She released the door and turned to slip into her shoes and pick up her bag, listening as the two officers finally stepped into her small entryway. "Do you know when he'll be back?"

"No... I don't know that he will." She admitted, trying not to let those words hurt as much as they did. "We had a pretty nasty fight yesterday. When I came home his things were gone."

"I see," the detective stated, craning his head to peer into every corner of her apartment that fell into his line of sight. "Do you have any idea where he might have gone?"

Cora wasn't too certain she liked where this was going. Sure, Cullen had been shot, but the way the detective was asking about him... "No," she lied, trying to appear just as willing to cooperate as before, "I don't. But if you think you found the man responsible, I saw him just as clearly as Cullen did. I can identify him myself if that's why you're here."

The detective gave her a leveling look, and Cora's spine straightened on its own. She should have felt some kind of fear or apprehension kick in like before, some dark little corner of her brain knew absently. When a cop looks at you that way, you know you're in for bad news.

Yet all Cora felt was an eery, purposeful calm, even when the detective started to speak; his brows drawn together like he felt she should know what he was about to say. Which of course she didn't.

"Ms. Dempkowski, we found the man suspected of being involved in your altercation the other night," he stated, and Cora scowled. _Altercation?_ Why was he making it sound like-

"He's dead." Jeffries dropped the other shoe, and if Cora had felt mostly calm before, she was downright catatonic now. "And the medical examiner has confirmed it was a direct result of the injuries sustained in his fight with Mr. Rutherford."

XXXX

It was mid afternoon when Cora finally emerged from the police station, trying her best to look like she wasn't in a hurry.

She had learned straight off that when Cullen had grabbed the junkie by the throat his grip had been so punishing that the man's trachea had been crushed, and had swollen shut within minutes. The criminal had been found just blocks away not long after, having asphyxiated when his throat closed up. The picture the detective had slid across the table had sealed the deal; Roger McMahon's face was exactly as she remembered it, but slack, like he was asleep. Only the livid bruising on his neck - broken slightly by a row of neat stitches at the center - told her that he was definitely not taking a nap.

Cora had known that Cullen was a fighter, but to think that he had the capacity to kill a man without needing a weapon... she'd never considered it before. Fighting with a sword was one thing. Commanding an army that would also go into battle with weapons? Sure. That was reasonable. But to kill someone with nothing more than your bare hands seemed so much more... personal. Brutal. It rattled her, until her mind involuntarily drew her back to memories of just how gentle those same hands could be. How they could make her feel so fragile and cherished and-

She had ended those thoughts abruptly. She couldn't afford to let herself slip. Not here.

So for hours the detective had grilled her on what happened that night. Not aggressively of course. This was definitely the good cop routine here. She'd been offered coffee and vending machine sandwiches as he had talked - and not so much asked - about where she thought Cullen may have gone since leaving, and why she had no way of finding him. Cora had feigned ignorance about most of it, including why Cullen wouldn't have a cell phone of his own, and where he had come from before arriving in the states. She had met him playing online video games, she had said, and they had hit it off immediately, deciding that they wanted to meet in person. Then one morning she woke up and found him at her place. That was it.

She had known that the detective wasn't buying what she was telling him, but she had answered everything that mattered truthfully; describing the events of the night and not even losing her patience when the detective made her describe - in detail - how it had been Cullen who had gone for the mugger first, and how he had tried to go after McMahon again when the thug had taken off.

Then Jeffries was asking her about Cullen's temperament. Had Cora ever witnessed him become angry, or violent with anyone else? Had she ever felt threatened by him personally? What had they fought about that had made him leave? And she couldn't believe what she was hearing. The cop was looking for a way to turn Cullen into some sort of monster. He was fishing for a reason to bring Cullen in and charge him with this waste-of-space's death.

It became perfectly, abundantly, clear that this man and his fellow officers were now a serious risk to Cullen, and Cora felt that strange impassiveness morph into something else. Something calculating, poised, and ready to do whatever it took to keep the Ferelden safe.

 _Because..._

 _No. Not here. Think about that later._

When she spoke next her voice calm, composed, yet by no mean meek. She wasn't afraid. Not of the detective in front of her, his organization, what she was doing... or why she was doing it. And she didn't allow herself to think about why she wasn't afraid, or why she should be. She just acted. It came easily enough.

"Look detective," she had said to the man seated across the small white table from her, "I've told you everything I know about that night. That man had a loaded gun pointed at us, and Cullen did what he did because he felt we were in danger. Now I'm not blind. You're trying to find a way to charge him with something, and for the life of me I can't understand why. We did nothing more than defend ourselves from a mugger. But for some reason you're trying to make us out to be the predators."

Jeffries had smiled, like he was trying to comfort her, and shook his head. "Ms. Dempkowski, I have no reason to suspect you personally had-"

"Cullen then," she had amended just as firmly, and that patronizing smile slipped away. "Yes, he and I have had our differences, but Cullen has never given me reason to considered him dangerous. He did nothing more than fight to keep us alive - and that this McMahon person died as a result of his own criminal actions is unfortunate. But in a situation where it was possibly him or us, Cullen and I both chose us. And speaking for myself, I would see it turn out the same way if I had to choose again.

"Now," she had continued, pushing herself back from the table, "if you want to charge me with something, then charge me and give me my phone call so I can call for an attorney. If you want to continue to speak without charging me, I want my attorney before we go on. Otherwise I think I'm done."

A tiny detached part of her normal self couldn't believe she'd had the balls to talk to a police detective that way. But she would be damned if she let this man get his hands on Cullen. Not when he had nothing to go on beyond the fact that Cullen hadn't rolled over and died when the opportunity had presented itself.

She also couldn't believe that the detective had just let her go without a word of argument; not until she figured he was going to watch her and see where she went. Okay, so maybe she was being a little paranoid - and had probably watched one too many of those cop-dramas on tv - but she wasn't about to take any risks with Cullen's neck on the line.

So after being released Cora's first stop was to a fast food restaurant for a burger and fries she had zero appetite for, and during that time she'd sent out several BS texts to people like nothing was wrong. Then she went to the drug store to buy some aspirin, because her head was still pounding, and she wondered if she should go back to the doctor. Did concussions last this long?

At last she decided that if she was going to convince anyone following her that she wasn't going to take them to their suspect, it would have happened by now. Checking the time on her phone, she finally allowed herself some purpose to her steps as she grabbed a cab and headed over to Dee's apartment building.

Her friend's voice crackled over the little speaker almost immediately when Cora pushed the buzzer, and she wondered if the woman hadn't been waiting for her.

"Hey chica," Cora chimed excitedly, "it's me. Thank God you're home - you are not going to believe what happened to me today! Let me up!"

There was a pause and then the door clicked and buzzed, and Cora let herself in. She forced herself to take the stairs one at a time - the front of the building had a few windows and she couldn't look rushed just in case.

Not until the door to her friend's apartment opened and Dee stood in front of her, looking completely confused. Not that Cora could blame her. Beyond Dee's slight shoulders, Cullen was standing in the doorway to the office; the stern look on his face as he watched her from the corner of his eye telling her he hadn't taken their last meeting well. But Cora told herself that she couldn't afford to care about that now.

"Dee, whatever you're doing with the mods, you've got to hurry," she rushed, dropping her things on the floor and pushing the door closed behind her - bolting it as she did. "The cops are looking for Cullen. I just spent all morning being questioned by a detective."

Her friend's face exploded with shock. "What?! Why?!"

Cora turned to the man watching her from the other side of the room. "Cullen, the guy who tried to rob us - he's dead. You crushed his windpipe when you fought him." Her revelation was immediately followed by a whispered _'Jesucristo'_ from Dee beside her, which she ignored. Before her the commander's frown only intensified.

"Good riddance," Cullen growled, "now he will no longer be able to threaten the lives of innocent people."

"No, Cullen," Cora sighed, "the police are trying to make you out to be some kind of a vicious monster. The man investigating what happened asked me all kinds of questions about who you are and what kind of a person you are. I didn't tell him much, but what I had to tell him he's not buying into. I think they're going to try to arrest you. And when they find you, they'll find out you're not who we said you are."

"Cora..." Dee's whisper was one of honest-to-god fear, and Cullen's expression began to slacken at that, realizing that Cora wasn't just overreacting. "Do you know what this means? You lied to the police about a homicide... You're an accessory after the fact now. That's what they call it, right? Or something like it? God, when they find out they're going to arrest you, too." If Cullen's face had been angry before, it was downright livid now.

"They're welcome to try," he muttered.

"No. You're not taking on the police." Cora replied, taking a step towards Cullen. "That won't work here. The only way to keep us both safe is for you to disappear. With you gone from this world they'll have no killer, and since your statement and mine match up about what happened, I'll be fine." _Shit, would she be fine?_ She had no way of knowing for sure, but she'd have to worry about that later.

For now her goal was clear: "We have to get you back home - fast."

XXXX

It was one thing to tell Dee that she had to hurry, but it was another thing entirely to expect it to happen. Dee was at the point in her modding where precision was the key; anything less than her usual meticulous effort would screw everything up. And Cora was so agitated by the whole experience with the CPD that she was absolutely no help - at least as far as Dee was concerned. So once Dee had banished her from the office and shut the door tight, Cora had burned off her nervous energy by cleaning Dee's apartment; washing dishes, sorting through mail, breaking down delivery boxes and recyclables until Dee's apartment was cleaner than Cora had ever remembered it being. Cullen had stayed out of her way and kept himself to other rooms for the most part, which had been just fine with Cora. She needed time to think, or to not think as the case may be.

Finally, once everything was put away and it was clear that Dee would never be able to find anything in her apartment ever again, Cora had dropped down onto the couch for a breather...

and woke up to the light of the television screen as an old fifties game show played on mute. There were sounds and a faint light coming from under the closed office door, but the rest of the apartment was lit solely by the tv. A blanket had been draped over her body and a throw pillow tucked under her head. When had she gotten those?

"What you did today was reckless." Cora twisted her head to find that Cullen was perched on the arm of the couch beyond her feet, his eyes trained on the flashing television screen, though he clearly wasn't paying much attention to it. "Dee told me. Lying to your police about me puts you at risk of being imprisoned yourself. And she doesn't believe that the danger will vanish once I return home." Autumn eyes turned towards her, his expression carefully guarded, but his voice gentle; concerned. "If that is true, why did you do it?"

She wasn't prepared for this. She had been ready to face his silence, and his angry glares, and his mistrust. That she could handle. But her walls weren't up to shield her from his softer side. She had thought she'd seen the last of that.

Cora pushed herself up to sit against her pillow, her knees tucked against her chest. "Because you're not what they're trying to make you out to be," she said with a shrug, "and I can't let them punish you for protecting..." Her voice died out; guilt riddling her.

 _What had she done to him?_

"For protecting you." He finished and she puffed a breath from between her lips.

"I'm sorry, Cullen," she whispered. "This is all my fault. All I wanted was to feel closer to you. But then it backfired and you ended up here in this world and..." she couldn't finish her thought. The shame of what her selfishness had caused was too heavy.

There was a silence from the other side of the couch for a moment, and part of Cora hoped he would get mad at her. She wanted him to just glare at her and agree. It would make things so much easier if they both knew what a shit she was. Instead that gentle tone returned, this time hesitant. "You told me that what happened between us had been a mistake. I must know. Do you only regret what has happened since my arrival? Or is it..." his voice broke off into a frustrated exhalation. He never had been any good at speaking from the heart.

Recognizing that this was what he was doing now, Cora stared at him for a moment until it sank in for her. "You want to know if Cora Trevelyan will still love you when you go back to Thedas."

His gaze drifted off to one side, that sad, resigned expression just gutting her.

 _Oh God. Oh God help her. She couldn't..._

No. Let her heart be shredded. But she was done destroying his.

"Yes," she breathed, and those gorgeous eyes were back on her, wide and blazing with new light. "Your Cora will still love you. She'll love you to her very last breath."

He was looking at her again, hopeful yet something else. Frightened? It made sense; she'd already hurt him so badly. And for what? To make it easier on her when he left? She was really making this selfishness thing a habit with him!

"I don't regret anything, Cullen," she murmured. "I... was scared. Of losing you. I thought... no. I was stupid. So stupid. And you have every right to not believe me, or trust me. But-"

And he was next to her even though she hadn't heard him move; his arms wrapping around her so gently, so carefully. Not like in the hospital. There was just that tenderness that told her she had been forgiven. Cora's eyes filled, flooded, and spilled out onto the cotton-clad chest against her cheek. "I'm so sorry," she whispered again, feeling her face burn with tears she'd been too proud to show him before. "I was a coward. I lose everyone - my mom, my dad. When I thought about losing you... I panicked. I ran from you. I was... cruel."

His hand was drawing slow trails down the back of her head and her bun fell away as his fingers expertly loosened it so he could comb them through her strands; his cheek pressed to the top of her head.

"You could never stay here," she hiccuped, "not before the attack, and definitely not now. You have to go home. But I-"

"No," he whispered, and her throat closed at the tenor of his voice; how lost he sounded. "I can't..."

"I-" Part of her screamed for her to shut up; to not do this. She couldn't keep him and she knew it. But she wouldn't run from this - she couldn't - it was too late. Hurting him wasn't going to change anything; he was already passed her defenses. There was no way to protect herself from getting hurt now. There was only his heart left to save, and if he was brave enough to face this for them, she would be, too. "I love you, Cullen."

His face twisted into her hair; fingers knotting into the tresses and his nose digging into her scalp uncomfortably. She felt his chest shudder against her cheek.

"I love you, too."

Her lungs constricted, preventing her from breathing correctly. She didn't want him to go. She didn't want him to leave her, like so many people she loved had. But she wouldn't lie to him. He deserved... so much from her.

"You have to go home," she moaned, screaming internally as he kissed her head. "Please understand that."

"Hush now," he murmured, "there's no need to-"

"Tell me that you understand, Cullen." She whispered. "Tell me that you know what will happen to the Inquisition - to your world - if you don't go back. Tell me, because if you forget, I'll cave in and ask you to stay. Don't make me doom Thedas, and condemn us to a life of hiding like criminals."

There was a shuddering breath against her cheek - ragged and horrible and she could just take it back and-

"I understand." His voice was soft; defeated. "Corypheus needs to be stopped. Without the Inquisition's army-"

"Without you to lead them, they'll fall." Cora finished, trying to sound confident, even though her eyes continue to drench his shirt. "But if you are there, the Inquisition will succeed. I know it."

The man above her head was silent for a moment before at last Cullen roused himself again.

"I will never forget you."

Cora forced a watery smile - one she shoved down her own throat so he could hear it in her voice. "As if the me in Thedas would let you."

There was a breathy chuckle - equally fake and despondent - but still there.

And it was the best she could hope for.

XXXX


	9. Steal One Last Kiss

**A CULLENITE'S GUIDE: HOW TO BE INQUISITOR**

 **STEP NINE: STEAL ONE LAST KISS**

Cora woke to a bang of the front door; she and Cullen both bolting upright from where they lay on the couch together, with Cullen almost dumping her from her place on his chest onto the floor as he rose. Quick reflexes caught her as she tumbled, crushing her against him with one arm while the other cocked out aggressively; his eyes alert and hard as they scanned their surroundings.

From her place at the front door Dee glance at them, unfazed by the blonde man's threatening posture; her glasses and nose barely visible over an overstuffed cardboard box. "Oh. Good," she said flatly, "you're awake. Help me with this. It's heavy."

Blinking the gravel from her eyes for a second, Cora finally pulled herself around enough to bolt into action with Cullen on her heels; the latter relieving the shorter woman of her burden easily. With a murmur of confusion, Cora nearly pounced on the commander when she caught sight of something silver and black, and all too familiar, sticking up from the rim of the box. "My keyboard," she frowned. "My computer! Dee what-"

"I thought about it last night," Dee admitted as she kicked out of her shoes. "We can't take Cullen back to your place to send him home, right? If the cops are on him like you say they are, they're probably watching your place, and it's only a matter of time before they get a search warrant. And since you told them you met Cullen online, how much do you want to bet they'd take your computer once they got in? If they take your tower we'd lose your saved data and mods. And there goes our chances of getting him home. So I figured I'd get to your apartment before they do."

Cora was impressed with her friend's thinking - the idea of a search warrant and losing her computer hadn't been as pressing an urgency to her as making sure Cullen kept a low profile. Looking back though, it had been stupid to overlook that very critical need. As an after thought of her own the blonde moved to the door, locking it behind Dee. "Fantastic. Thanks, Chica. Do you know if you were followed?"

"Not as far as I could tell. And there was no one out on your floor when I got up there." Dee peeled off her hat and unzipped her light jacket. "Plus they've never seen me before. Even if they were watching for either of you two from outside they wouldn't have suspected anything when I went in. For all they know, I'm just another tenant in a very big building." With a flick of her wrist Dee dropped Cora's keys onto her coffee table; undoubtedly picked from the blonde's own purse while she slept.

Thoroughly appreciating Dee's thought process, Cora directed Cullen to Dee's television, where she began extracting cords from the box, unplugging Dee's blue ray player to make room for her computer to be hooked up to the electrical and television.

Clearly content to let Cora do whatever she wanted with her gear, Dee shuffled over to her papasan chair in front of her living room window, collapsing into it and watching the pair lazily. It occurred to Cora then that between working on the mod and breaking Cora's computer out of her place, Dee probably hadn't slept more than an hour last night - if at all. The woman may have a forked tongue, but she also had a heart of gold, and Cora felt a rush of affection for her friend.

"Why don't you get some shut-eye, Dee?" Cora asked as she started in on a tangle of cords. "You've done more than your fair share today." Her friend hummed absently, watching Cora work for a minute.

"Don't hook your computer up to the network," Dee murmured drowsily, curling into her chair more comfortably and seemingly ready to take Cora's suggestion to heart right where she sat. "Not yet. Don't give them a chance to find you until it doesn't matter anymore."

Cullen scowled from his position standing over Cora. "This is ridiculous. You can't evade them forever. And I can't just leave you here to face your police on your own."

Dee perked up more than a little at this; her scowl as irreverent and stubborn as any she'd unleashed on Cora. "Oh you'd better believe you can!" She snapped. "If you don't go they'll find you, both of you, because you'd be dumb enough to stay together. And then you're both screwed. You'll never get back to Thedas, and you'll both end up in prison; you for manslaughter if you're lucky, and Cora for hiding you. And I don't suppose Cora told you that they don't lock men and women up together here. She'll go to one prison and you'll go to another; so she'll end up alone anyway.

"But if you go," Dee calmed down a bit when Cullen's face started to crease with desperation, "Cora can change her story. She can tell the cops she was afraid of you, and lied so you wouldn't find out she turned you in. They'll go easy on her if she does that. Poor little white girl got smacked around by her internet boyfriend and tried her best to not get hit by him again. Oh you go ahead and frown at me, Rutherford," she growled, "you don't get it. This sort of thing happens here so often it's trope!"

Without showing any reaction to the informal use of his last name, Cullen's expression instead betrayed his confusion over her choice of words. "Trope?"

"Common," Cora murmured, knowing Dee was onto something, even if she didn't like it, "cliche."

"Exactly." Dee picked back up. "The cops will buy into it because it happens every day. We send you home and Cora goes into the station all sad and weepy, crying about how she thought she saw you following her down the sidewalk, and how she needs the police to protect her from you. Only you're long gone by then, and they're looking for a ghost. They never find you. For all they know, maybe you went 'back' to London. And maybe they put out a warrant for your arrest. But Cora gives them exactly what they want to hear for as long as they ask and when they're done asking questions they'll leave her alone. Worse case scenario, I call my father. He has attorney friends, who will keep the police off of her ass and help her to lock in her abused girlfriend routine. Either way you have to be gone for any of this to work.

"And, for the record," Dee added with a weirdly quiet voice that somehow unsettled Cora more than any rant the little modder had ever gone down, "she won't be alone. She hasn't been alone for years." The woman's chest puffed up indignantly with her last statement; clearly Cullen's unknowing jab had gone beyond just annoying her.

The Ferelden was glaring at his tiny adversary angrily until Cora's low murmur broke the silence. "I hate to say it, but it would work, Cullen. You could go home without worrying about if I was safe or not. If I play my part right they'll look at me like a victim,". Cora grimaced. "God that's repulsive."

"Repulsive, but effective." Dee pointed out.

A sigh broke loose above Cora's head and the blonde looked down at her. "The fact that you will have to lie to your police to keep yourself safe... it isn't right."

"There's a lot about this world that isn't right," Dee said petulantly, "But I could say the same thing about your Thedas. Your Circles, and demons, and-"

"Alright. You've made your point." Cullen snapped at the darker woman before turning back to Cora. "You're certain this would work?"

Cora swallowed hard; the concern in his eyes drove a spike of guilt into her guts. "The detective told me they didn't think I was part of what you did. If I give them the villain they want..." Her throat tightened at the thought.

"If the lie will keep you safe," Cullen said softly, "then tell it. I have no need of the approval of men who refuse to see the truth. Yours is the only good opinion I require."

"And you know you have that, right?" Cora had to make sure he knew that. "I'll have Dee load a copy of my mods and save data onto a back-up hard drive, just in case. Even if they take my computer after you go home, I'll still have the records. Cora Trevelyan will be waiting for you, just like I promised."

She half expected Dee to groan with disgust, or object in some way, but her friend just shrugged. "Right," she said casually, "no problem there." Dee's willingness to cooperate threw her off for a moment until the dark woman yawned and returned to her self-made ball in her chair. "Do me a favor and wake me up in two hours. I've got a few more things to do before we get lover-boy home."

XXXX

Cora had worked in relative silence, hooking her computer into Dee's TV and setting it all up with the exception of the network cable, which was plugged into the tower, but not the router. She powered everything on, making sure everything ran as it should before powering it all back down. After that there was nothing for her to do. The apartment was already clean, she wasn't about to game in front of Cullen, and neither of them felt like eating anything in Dee's kitchen.

Unable to think of anything else, she stood from the couch and glanced down at the man watching her. "Well, I haven't had a shower in two days. And I'm pretty sure my clothes could walk off without me. I'm going to go see what in Dee's closet might fit me and take a shower. I won't be long."

After about ten minutes of rifling through her tiny friend's wardrobe, she finally settled on a broomstick skirt with an elastic waistband that barely reached her knees, and a flowing batwing top that wouldn't look ridiculously small on her, due to Dee's larger chest size. Dee's style was loud prints and bright colors, and the two garments plucked from her wardrobe were no exception. Cora couldn't tell if they matched or clashed, but figured it didn't really matter at this point. She just needed to get into something clean.

Then came the shower, which felt amazing; the water wasn't as hot as her shower could get, but it pounded at her back and shoulders fiercely, beating the tension out of muscles that had knotted up from sleeping at an odd angle. She quickly lathered up and then let herself melt beneath the water pressure until the door clicked shut beyond the dark plastic curtain. Cora blinked streams of water from her eyes. "Dee?"

"She has yet to wake." Cullen's voice echoed in the small room, and Cora forgot to breathe, intently trying to listen to the sounds beyond the noise of the shower when he said nothing further. She could see shadows playing through the shower curtain, but the man's movements were careful and quiet. When the curtain finally pulled back light poured in, revealing over six feet of bare skin, and cinnamon eyes which watched her cautiously, until Cora moved back and gave him room to step into the tub with her.

Without waiting for him to make the first move she turned from him immediately, grabbing the bottle of shampoo from the small caddie and pouring a generous dollop into her hand. With her free hand she wordlessly guided Cullen beneath the water's stream, soaking him head to toe and combing fingers through his curls to loosen the gel that held his locks in place. When she was satisfied Cullen stepped out of the water at her silent cue, where she then stretched up and began massaging the fragrant liquid into his hair and scalp; gently pressing finger pads into his skin until lids slid over rolling eyes and Cullen was sighing contentedly.

Pouring more of the liquid into her palm, Cora's hands began traveling down to his shoulders and arms, working at him with firm fingers as much as with the solution and drawing contented sighs or moans from him when her fingers slid over this ache or that; careful to avoid the injury to his side that had yet to heal completely. Soapy hands explored and treated every remaining inch of him, until the man before her was practically sagging where he stood; his expression nearly serene in its relaxation.

With her hands on his shoulders Cora then gently tugged at him until he took two steps forward, submerging himself beneath the shower's jets where the water swept away the lather, leaving clear, heat-blushed skin.

Warm eyes blinked at her from beneath the rivulets that ran over his brow, and she didn't need any further invitation; Cora stretched up onto her toes and pressed her lips over his. It was gentle; tender, plush pecks that he returned with just as much care while his arms folded around her, pulling her into the water with him.

Her attention was focused on every sensation, wanting to remember everything, and knowing this may be her last chance to make these memories. She was aware of the density of his arms and chest that somehow still managed to feel so soft against her. Of the taste of his mouth that was distinctly his; a strange mixture that wasn't quite metallic, nor salty, though those were the closest flavors she could relate to him. Of the smell of his breath as it came from his nose and how it reminded her of the smell of his skin before she had applied the shampoo to him.

Of the sounds he made while kissing her; wordless, voiceless breaths that panted from his lips whenever they parted briefly. Tiny wet smacking sounds when he pulled her lower lip between his.

Of how he wore an expression of complete abandon when he kissed her; eyes closed and brow furled as though he couldn't get enough. As though he was desperate - desperate for more.

As desperate as she was.

Surrendering to what they both wanted, Cora leaned back until her shoulders pressed to the cold tile behind her, with Cullen following eagerly. One hand trailed down her side to cup at the back of her thigh and, knowing what he wanted, Cora lifted her leg to wrap it around his waist. The press of firm heat against her sex lasted only a moment before he slid into her completely, drawing sharp gasps from between their lips; Cora maintaining only enough awareness of their location to bury her voice in his mouth.

Hips rolled against hers, slowly but undeniably deliberate; his hands snaking between her back and the shower wall, pressing her to him until there was no space left between them that even the water could reach. Lips framed in a prickling five o'clock shadow trailed down her neck and shoulder, working in partnership with teeth and a tongue, and at times nothing but puffs of breath, reminding her once again that Cullen knew exactly what she liked. He proved that each time he touched her. Each time he _didn't_ touch her.

Thrusting hips and his tormenting mouth soon became too much for her, and Cora's quiet whimpers grew into vocal mewls, drawing Cullen back to her mouth where their kisses became sloppy, open mouthed gasps that met cheeks or chins as often as they claimed lips, with Cullen sighing and groaning softly into her skin more often than not.

The sound of his voice, so completely lost to her, liquified her nerves and set them on fire all at once. For the moment this was her reality; it was all she wanted and all she needed. She gave up supporting any of her own weight and surrendered herself to his arms; her hands running down his back and then back up to fist into his hair. He hissed at that, his head tipping back into her grip, and without invitation she ravished his neck as he continued to buck into her with a slow, deeply rolling thrust that had her choking back the moans she kept lodged in her throat.

A squeaking whimper broke free of her lips finally, and then Cullen was claiming her mouth once more, whispered confessions pouring from his tongue like a prayer. He wanted this - wanted _her_ ; had wanted her for so long; had ached for her on the nights before kissing her on the battlements. And even here, in this strange world, she was everything he had first fallen in love with. Because he _loved_ her, with every breath in his body and every scrap of his being, and he was infinitely better for loving her, and utterly astounded and she could love him-

-the words bled on into one continuous stream of adoration and she wanted so badly to say them back. All of them, and more. But more than that she wanted him to keep going; to hear his voice as it poured over her ears with the sweetest endearments she'd ever heard.

So whenever he would pause his mantra to pluck at her lips with his she would deepen the kiss, filling it with every ounce of emotion that she couldn't put into words; her hands pressed to his face, framing his neck, holding him gently in ways only someone who had completely surrendered their heart would touch their lover.

It was only when the speed of his thrusts became more frantic did Cora begin to lose track of those beautiful endearments, not noticing when his words broke, or his voice caught in a groan signaling they were nearing the end.

His name escaped her lips, she knew, pleading for him; for this to never end. Warmth pooled between her thighs, spreading up into her belly in a wave of pleasure that slowly, gently, tipped her over the edge, with Cullen following suit. His breath rasped through his nose as his mouth clamped over hers; his thrusts suddenly shaky and erratic in their need, and yet by some miracle he still managed to hold her up.

Then it was over and his face dropped to her shoulder. Cora tried to put her feet down and spare him her weight, but his arms held to her tightly, and her free leg dangled above the shower floor without being able to reach.

"Forgive me" he breathed after a time, his voice quavering low against her ear. "I didn't know if you would want this after..." his voice trailed off, unable to say the words that would remind them both of how she had hurt him. "Yet I couldn't bear the thought of going back before setting things right."

"I'm glad," she admitted, nuzzling into his neck gratefully. "Whatever happens," she went on, deciding in that moment to borrower on his own line from Trespasser, "just know that everything was worth fighting for." It was as true here as it was there, she felt.

Amber eyes lifted to catch hold of hers; his smile soft, but genuine. "It was."

XXXX

When the door to the bathroom at last opened, Cora felt her stomach drop slightly. The door to Dee's office was open across the way; the light pouring across the carpet into the hallway. Dee was awake, and chances were good she knew exactly what they had been up to. Her apartment was smaller than Cora's and the walls weren't exactly sound-proof.

Without a word of warning fingers laced through Cora's and Cullen shifted passed her, leading them into the office and apparently ready to face whatever Dee had planned for them. But in spite of what her friend knew, Cora could tell right away she wasn't planning on acknowledging any of it. The face behind the glasses was neutral, without any hint of teasing or anger and what the two had just done in her shower. For the second time in just a few hours, Dee had decided against taking her shot, which was almost unheard of in Cora's experience.

"I couldn't sleep," the modder admitted when the pair entered her office, glancing down at the keyboard in front of her, "the thought of what we're about to do just hit me. Has it occurred to you that we're trying to open a portal between worlds? It's... fucking insane. _We're_ fucking insane. But we can't be totally gone - _you're_ here." Dee's eyes landed pointedly on Cullen and she shook her head. "I thought I was okay with it finally. That this was just a modding gig. But... God you're _here_ , Cullen. And now you're going back. If we can do this, do you know what this will mean? We're the first people to open a portal between worlds!" Cora's skeptical hum at Dee's statement made the woman's eyes bug out from behind her lenses. "What, you think someone else has done this before?"

"No... at least, not for sure," Cora murmured, "but this did cross my mind when I was first trying to figure things out. But none of it really mattered when it came to sending Cullen home. Not just then at least.

"I just can't see," she clarified when the two others in the room kept staring at her expectantly, "how a bunch of story writers created an entire world that we then managed to pull a living, breathing person from. It seems more likely to me that we just stumbled on the same world that maybe one of their writers already knew existed; and that's where they pulled their stories from."

Dee scowled. "Bullshit. You're saying that Gaider and Hepler have seen Thedas?"

"Or they're _from_ Thedas, and just never found a way back. My Inquisitor opened the door here; maybe one of them was a mage in Thedas. And there's no magic here for them to draw from, so maybe that's why they never went back." Cora shrugged when Dee's mouth dropped. "It's just a thought, anyway. Doesn't mean I'm right." It would have normally thrilled her to discuss the topic more, especially with an audience that was clearly interested, but right now she just couldn't make herself care. Where Dee was finally tuning into the magnitude of what they were living through, Cora could only think about what she was about to lose.

Stepping further into the room, she ignored the slack-jawed expression of her friend and peered down at the screen; lines of coding in screen over screen of programs had her eyes crossing already. "This it?" It took a second, but her friend managed to pull herself together again in order to respond.

"The mod?" Dee nodded, looking back at the screen. "Part of it. Give me another hour and I'll have the last of it pieced together. Then..." her eyes lifted to Cullen, and Cora saw the man straighten where he stood.

"To Thedas," he murmured.

Dee nodded. "First we test the mods to make sure that they took, but yeah, that's the plan. I already checked them against the install cleaner, and will run them through the program once they're done. They won't conflict with anything else on Cora's computer. The test run will be more for accuracy. You, uh, may want to get changed." Her chin dipped as she looked pointedly at Cullen's street clothes. "The sooner you get home, the sooner we can get to work on clearing Cora with the cops."

Cora's gaze lifted and met Cullen's; his expression pained as he looked at her and slowly nodded his agreement.

Her heart started to crumble inside of her chest all over again.

It was time.

XXXX


	10. Face Your Destiny

**A CULLENITE'S GUIDE: HOW TO BE INQUISITOR**

 **STEP TEN: FACE YOUR DESTINY**

She liked him better this way. Okay, so there was no denying that the man could make anything look good, or that the way he wore a pair of jeans on his hips was practically a damned art form. But there was something about seeing Cullen in his armor, standing there in Dee's bedroom, that made the world make sense. He was almost regal, which was funny given how much the man detested nobility. But there it was; Cullen Rutherford carried himself like a man who was born into greatness. And when he wore that armor she doubted very much that there was a soul alive who couldn't see that.

Not even her. Not even when he turned that soft, heart-sick gaze on her; the vambrace forgotten in his grip as he stared at her like this was the last time they would be together like this. The saddest part of that for Cora was that, in her case, that was pretty much it.

Forcing herself out of her own head, Cora stepped into the room. "Don't stop on my account," she said, taking the armor from his hand and holding it open in front of him. Warm eyes watched her in silence before he at last placed his arm obediently in the lower cannon. Cora started to work on the buckles, twisting his arm this way or that for a better view as she went, until finally the seams between the two halves met cleanly. The other vambrace was resting on Dee's bed and Cora bent to grab it, only to find a gloved hand at her shoulder; keeping her in place before him.

"In spite of everything, I find myself worrying that this is somehow the end," his voice was soft and sad, "that when I return to Thedas, I will lose you."

Her heart knew that pain. Oh God did she know that. But she'd made the decision; her heart for his. She would protect him at all costs, and see him home safely where she knew he'd be alright in the end. He'd given up the lyrium, which was the biggest hurdle for him. He could go home and marry the Inquisitor. She would keep playing the game after he left so that could happen.

And this time, at the end of Trespasser, she would disband the Inquisition and allow the couple to retire to the country; closer to his siblings, if Cora Trevelyan/Dempkowski would have any say in the matter. Sure Solas was absolutely starting a colossal mess that undoubtedly threatened the world, but there was still Hawke and the Warden and a whole host of other people who could deal with that. Cullen had been in all three games and had gone through some serious shit. He deserved some peace.

So she'd give Cullen and his Inquisitor their happy ending in this play through, and then would never pick up the keyboard to play any Dragon Age game again. She couldn't risk disrupting their happiness, and wouldn't be able to bear through watching a romance with him through a computer program. Or of seeing a future where he wasn't completely happy.

So, Cora sucked down that ache that tried to overtake her. She'd spent years putting on a brave face; showing this step-troll or that that what those horrible women said didn't matter. That she was fine. That she was happy, no matter how hard they tried to tear her down. That losing her father to them over and over again didn't matter.

She could put on that face again, here. It didn't have to be for long.

So she flipped the conversation on its side, like Cullen's worry that they were about to lose each other wasn't the most pressing issue with their relationship.

"It won't be easy," she admitted, "but we're going to make it work. We've come too far to just give up now. I'll take care of what I have to on this side, and once I'm done I'll be back in Thedas with you, just like before." _Before, when she had nothing to hold onto beyond her keyboard._ "And you won't even know that I wasn't there for a while." She bent her head back down to work on fastening the rest of his armor to his arm. "Time works differently between here and Thedas. When you go back it'll be to that same time that you left, and I'll be right there, sealing the rift like nothing even happened."

"But something did happen," Cullen pressed, "I won't deny what we've experienced here."

"True," she mulled, "but there is a chance we won't remember what happened here. Like when you forget your dreams after waking up."

Cullen sighed. "I must admit that part of me finds solace in the possibility of that outcome," he admitted, "yet to forget all that we have shared together here..." his hand lifted to press to her cheek and she leaned into his touch. She'd come to love the feel of his palm against her face. It was comforting, the smell of him and his heat making it so easy to forget all of the insanity that was bubbling up around them. She appreciated these moments when there was nothing but her and Cullen in the world.

"We'll just have to wait and see what happens," she said at last. "But whatever does happen, we're in it together."

Warm lips pressed to her mouth and she sighed at the contact. This was it. Somehow she knew that this was their last kiss - that they wouldn't get the chance again after this. Her arms curled behind his neck and she drew herself closer against him, feeling his arms return the sentiment. Soft smacking sounds broke the silence as their lips parted and reconnected languidly. They didn't rush this; didn't press for more. For several moments Cora contented herself to pet his hair absently as they tasted each other over and over again.

Until the click of an opening door came from the hallway behind her, followed by Dee's voice calling out their names.

With another sigh Cora broke the kiss, but held her place for a heartbeat longer as Cullen pressed his brow to hers.

She would stay like that for the rest of her life is she could. But that wasn't possible, and so Cora pulled away, forcing that 'I'm-alright-if-you're-alright' smile on her face. "Come on," she muttered, taking hold of his hand and pulling him towards the door, "it's time to go home."

XXXX

Cora Dempkowski sat cross-legged on Dee's couch with her keyboard on her lap in a position she favored when gaming above all others; the light tapping sound of its keys filling the small living room as she logged onto the network. From the other room Dee sat at her own computer, programs open and the appropriate screens up and waiting for the signal to start the uploads.

They were going to have to do it just like before - only this time intentionally; wait for 9:41 to roll around and then have Dee load in the mods at the exact moment Cora closed the rift in her game. Then Cora would pause the game and walk away, leaving Cullen alone in the room, where he would hopefully be pulled back to his Cora Trevelyan, now modded to match Cora Dempkowski in every way that they could possibly influence. It was going to take some doing - the timer on her cell phone counted down the minutes to 9:41, synced to Dee's phone timer and the clocks on their computers, so both women could be certain she held up her side of the job.

Without an active roll in the process to speak of, Cullen was left with nothing to do but stand beside the couch where Cora sat, hovering anxiously as he watched her fingers dart over the keyboard while simultaneously craning his head around to peer into the hallway at Dee. The two women were calling back and forth to each other, confirming times, statuses as far as where they were in the process, and checking to make sure each knew their jobs and when to perform them. So far it was the most impressive display of active and continuous teamwork the pair had ever performed; neither had let off an insult or sarcastic quip yet.

When the first strands of the main theme to _Dragon Age: Inquisition_ filled the room, Dee promptly turned in her seat and kicked her door shut as she was supposed to. They didn't know if having her in the room would impact their ability to open the rift again or not, but they decided it was best to not take any chances. She hadn't been there before, so she was to separate herself from the immediate area this time, too. A door and walls would be enough the blonde woman had supposed. Cora's neighbor had been home the moment Cullen had torn through her television, after all, and had only been separated from her apartment by the walls and doors between.

Loading the last save before the fight where Cullen had been pulled from the monitor for the first time since that momentous day, she instantly noticed the impact of the anomaly they were living through: where she had been traveling with three companions before, now only Sera and Dorian jogged along with her character. The space where Dee's constructed icon for Cullen had once been was now empty. She hadn't noticed that before, when demonstrating the game's controls to Cullen before quitting the game during those first few hours. Then again, she had been fairly distracted by her new houseguest.

"Shit," she muttered, realizing that there was going to be a problem. Cullen had been acting as her party's tank. Out of the three remaining party members, Dorian had the best physical defense, and he still fell more than his fair share without Cullen around to act as a human wall between the demons and his comrades. The Inquisitor's party was close to a rift, but Emprise du Lion was a bitch of an area to navigate, and the beasties prowling it made it even more so. There was no way she was getting to that same rift she had pulled Cullen through quickly.

"Cullen I need you to pick up my phone and watch the time for me," she said, rushing her party through the war-torn terrain and keeping an eye to the map for those little red blips between here and there that would only slow her up. "I need to be at the Fade rift by 9:38. I need a few minutes to clear the demons so I can seal it. Give me reminders of the time every two or three minutes - more frequently as we get closer to the deadline time."

"Very well," from the corner of her eye a mahogany mantle dipped low, as the man retrieved her cell. "Should I help to navigate for you as well?"

Cora shook her head. "I know where I'm going. I just need you to keep me on schedule."

"Understood. Do you anticipate problems?"

With her attention fixed almost completely on the game in front of her, Cora failed to hold back the derisive snort or the cynical smirk that broke loose at his question. "Well since you're here, and not there, I've got no warrior to back me up physically. It's just Sera, Dorian, and me. So yeah, I say there are going to be some problems."

 _Like that._

An obscenity broke free of her mouth at the same moment Cullen muttered an appellation to the Maker when a fist of red templars came into view, complete with one of those huge ugly bastards in their ranks. For a split second she realized that Cullen was focused as intently on the screen as she was, and was able to spare just enough of her attention to mutter "Cullen, the time," before losing herself to the game.

The fight went about as well as she had expected. Cora shifted tactics to put Dorian in the role of party wall, and encouraging Sera to hang back. The necromancer was on his back more often than he was firing spells, but it helped - sort of. With Cullen calling out the time at her ear as instructed, her nerves were stretched tight. She hadn't replenished her potions just prior to her last save, and had no time to run back to a camp to restock. She wasn't low - not yet - but without Cullen she could see herself using every single potion within her carrying capacity quickly and easily.

 _Easily! Of course!_

Cora bumped into the options menu and dropped the game's difficulty down to easy. Why hadn't she thought of that before? _Dumbass_. But at least this way she was going to stand more of a chance.

Setting up that chance had cost her, though. Cullen called out 9:38 and she wasn't at the rift yet - though it was at least in sight by now.

 _Fuck. Fuck._

She booked it straight through a pack of wolves standing between her and her target without stopping to fight them. The rift was right there and she had to be at it - now. Oh she knew perfectly well that the little shits were going to follow her into the fight, and try to make battling the demons all the more difficult, but she couldn't worry about that. Right now her only concern was closing the rift.

A pride demon materialized and Cora laughed out loud. _Right, because why the fuck not?_

Without pausing to decide if she was jumping the gun or not, Cora unleashed Mark of the Rift before the majority of the demons could scatter. Thank god she had held off on using her big guns for this. The fearlings and those wolves that had followed her in fell off straight out of the gate. From there, Cora went after whatever nasty Sera and Dorian turned their attention to - knowing it would be faster if they tag-teamed the demons.

"9:39." Cullen's voice announced.

Thankfully her mark had done a boatload of damage to everything. The first wave of demons fell quickly enough and Cora stood impatiently, waiting for the next wave to come pouring through the green beams of light. It was the longest interval she'd ever waited through, she felt, and she did her best to not go nuts during the pause by throwing a potion Dorian's way.

More fearlings, horrors, and another pride demon exploded into the snow and Cora unleashed the largest spells at her and Dorian's disposal on them, rotating through party member to ensure that everyone was throwing everything they had into this fight. But bouncing around so much gave her Inquisitor brief moments where she didn't fight to her full potential, and each time Cora circled back around to the blonde mage she found the woman overrun by this demon or that.

"9:40."

 _"Goddamn mother fucking fucks! Get the fuck off of me!"_

The floodgates of her mouth opened and that singular word was unleashed on her opponents in every variation she knew as her Inquisitor stood and jogged back a couple of steps so she could actually get a spell off, watching as Dorian's icon changed from dark and bloodied to something less alarming; telling her that Sera had revived the man once again. More spells followed and red dots fell off of the map one by one, though still far too slowly for her taste. A horror she had been rushing after dropped in an eruption of fire; Dorian having taken the creature on personally.

"9:41."

"Wait Dee!" Cora bellowed into the open air before her as she struggled to end the battle immediately.

And then, proving to Cora once again why she loved the crass she-elf so much, Hail of Arrows rained down around her characters as Cora and Dorian focused two final spells on the pride demon. The image of the rift shifted further off, and Cora was charging after it, smashing the close button as soon as it appeared.

 _"Dee now!"_

The rift seemed to explode and Cora popped the tactical menu up, freezing the world on the television all at once.

Dropping the keyboard Cora gave Cullen's beautiful, longing eyes one last look as she sped off, brushing her fingers against his while racing for the bathroom in order to separate them.

The door had only just begun to swing shut behind her when the living room exploded into a maelstrom of noise and green light.

And then there was only silence, and dark.

XXXX

The doorknob was cool and unremarkable against her palm when she at last worked up the nerve to turn it; the hinges silent as she pushed the door open.

The rest of the apartment didn't look like a bomb had gone off or anything. In spite of the flash of green light that had blazed from the seams of the door just a few seconds ago, and had made Dee jump back with a yelp that had her thinking that the entire place had gone up in sickly flames, everything outside of her office was just fine. The rooms were as neat as her friend had left them; Cora's purse and keys were by the door, the television was on with the game paused-

-but the woman herself was noticeably absent, as was the ex-templar.

 _Holy shit! Had it actually worked?!_

Dee crept through the apartment, finding a few minor differences. Cora's tricked-out, super-expensive keyboard was laying face down on the floor in front of the couch; an offense to her equipment the gamer girl would normally never tolerate. The woman's cell phone was also on the floor, beside the sofa, with the timer screen reading The time in large, white numbers.

Passing the electronics, Dee opened the front door to peek out into the foyer, and found it too, was empty.

Clicking the door shut quietly she return to her living room, where only one room of the apartment didn't have a clear line of sight leading to it, and when she returned to her tiny hallway she found that her bathroom door was shut; the light off judging by the lack of glow coming from beneath it. Dee sighed and backed off immediately. There had only been two rooms Cora could have escaped to when it came time to give Cullen the space he'd need to leave, and Dee now knew which one it had been. As for why the door was still closed, the dark woman pieced that one together immediately. Cora hated it when people saw her cry, so it was no surprise that she would have locked herself in the room to have a good bawl; and Dee was in no particular hurry to coax her out.

Instead, to kill the time, Dee went into the kitchen to fix up some food. Neither had eaten much these passed couple of days, she knew. She tossed a container of left-over pasta into the microwave and, while she waited for that, gathered up Cullen's prescription and modern clothes from their place next to the desk in her office, chucking them into a couple of grocery bags - not sure if she should toss them or not. Then the keyboard and cell phone were placed on the living room table, the blanket on the couch tossed back on her bed, and finally a fresh pot of coffee was started up; knowing the drink was the closest thing to comfort food Cora had.

Once she was sure that she had erased all traces of the Ferelden from every unoccupied room of her place, and the microwave had chimed that their food was ready, she decide that she'd given Cora enough time alone. Trying not to sound too rough, Dee padded up to her bathroom, knocking softly.

"Come on, girl," she sighed, hoping like hell she wouldn't hear a sob from the other side of the door. She didn't know how to deal with that. "I know it sucks, but you knew it had to happen. He didn't belong here. ... You did the right thing, you know? He wanted to go back. Like you said, Thedas is his home, right? ... And now you can move on..." She sighed again and finally worked up the nerve to open the door, slowly though, to give Cora time to wipe off her face or whatever. "Cora, seriously, you have t-"

Dee stopped dead in her tracks and gaped. Her mind started to spin as she flipped on the light switch - not that it changed anything.

What should she do? _What should she do? What-_

And then a weird calm came over her, and Cora's friend wondered if she had just snapped a little. Or a lot. Because what came to mind didn't - _shouldn't_ \- make sense. She should be flipping her shit right now, not thinking what she was.

Because she _knew_. Dee knew that she shouldn't _do_ anything. Cora was the one with all of the crazy ideas and schemes. She was the dreamer who could imagine her way into or out of anything.

If anyone could puzzle this one out, it would have to be the blonde blogger.

For now, Dee could only wait, and hope that she _would_.

XXXX

She was having a nightmare - she was aware of it in that strange way her mind could sometimes recognize that something wasn't real. They were nonsensical and impossible to follow. There were people dead all around her; bodies thrown on the ground, burned and twisted like like gnarled trees. There was shouting, sometimes screaming.

The bodies would at times give way to less gruesome scenes, where she spat insults at women who sneered at and belittled her at every turn; glittering jewels dangling from their fingers like physical evidence of some personal betrayal. Once a woman with long blonde hair smiled sweetly at her as she cried - she loved that smile so, so much. It had been so long...

Then came the otherworldly visions where she could only cower away from monsters that gnashed inhuman mouths at her. She faded in and out of those varying nightmares forever. Maybe it was only hours, and maybe it was days. She couldn't tell. But through it all her body soon ached everywhere; cold agony making itself known in her hips and legs, even when her dreams took her into harsh fires or soft embraces.

When she finally came-to, she could hear water. It was a low, slow drip, like someone had left on the...

...left on the...

 _...how did that phrase go again?_

She tried to press a hand to her forehead but something stopped her. She couldn't move.

Cora opened her eyes just as green light flashed within her clenched fingers and pain flared up her arm like lightening. She opened her grip to try to drop whatever it was that was hurting her, but the light grew only brighter; a jagged line across her palm that pulsed with sickly light that shone violently when the pain intensified. Try as she might, she couldn't get a clearer look; her arms had been chained to the stone floor beneath her. She was trapped with this green fire burning a hole through her hand and no way of escaping any of it.

Panic threatened to swallow her, but was stamped down when the door banged open in front of her as two very angry, very intimidating, women marched in; both looking at her like she was a matter of seconds from a death like the ones she had just dreamt of.

 _Strange... they seemed so familiar to her... had she met them before?_

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now." The one without the hood demanded, leaning down to her ear.

Cora blinked. The accent... she could place that much at least. It was… Nevarran. Right? Another word tried to surface, another name for that dialect, but she dismissed it. No, definitely Nevarran.

 _Why could she remember that but not..._

"The conclave is destroyed," the woman went on, "everyone who attended is dead. Except for you."

It hadn't been a nightmare, Cora realized with a dread that dropped her stomach low in her guts and made her blood run cold. Those horrible images from before had been memories… and they were filling her head slowly, coming through like people walking towards her through a fog. Some she couldn't make out yet, and only knew that they were there. Some were getting clearer by the second.

And others still were fading out completely; impressions of a dark-haired woman with a face she couldn't see, the face of the blonde woman with that smile she so adored, incredible places she thought she should know... all dimming rapidly and leaving her uncertain that they just hadn't been part of her nightmares. Still, a part of her mourned the loss of them. For reasons she didn't understand, she knew those dreams had been important to her.

The women in front of her were watching her suspiciously, waiting for her answer. And while that creeping fear was taking hold of her more firmly with every second, something deep within her told her that things would work out. She did not know how or why she held this belief, but something precious was out there, waiting for her. Something that would help to make everything make sense again. She only had to find it. If the rest of the world unwound around her, this small comfort would keep her steady. She only had to trust that this belief meant something.

 _It wouldn't be long now…_

It was not much, but it was enough to strengthen her failing nerves so that she could speak. Hesitating for only a second, Cora opened her mouth and allowed her voice waiver up into existence; its tones bright and silvery, just as she knew it had always been.

 _It wouldn't be long now._

XXXX


End file.
